Back Stage Enter Stage Left Act I
by wanda1969
Summary: AU set in the world of Theatre. Ianto Jones' life is about to change when a new production company arrive at the Cardiff Grand for Pantomime Season- oh, yes it is! Rated M for future more adult content.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** "Back Stage- Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself. Any typos are my own.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

**A/N: **Another AU, I'm afraid! Fun, friendship, and perhaps romance and behind the scenes shenanigens… focussing (pun intended) on Ianto Jones (a lighting engineer) and Jack Harkness (an upcoming jobbing actor/'turn'). I was going to call this series 'Curtain Up' (thank you iolo1234/pooky1234 and everyone for all of your support!), but for some odd reason (5 minutes ago), I went for 'Back Stage'. No idea why!

**Chapter 1**

"Bloody typical!" Ianto groaned to himself as he looked down to the stage from the gantry far above. It was the beginning of the pantomime season, and he was putting the finishing touches to the generic background lighting for this year's production of 'Aladdin'. The cast had arrived early and below him the stage had suddenly filled with members of the Production Company for this year's show. He plugged in the last of the Fresnel lights which would be used for the simple, four colour wash.

He was glad that he was out of the way as he assessed the rag-tag band from Hartmann Productions as they either stood on stage and looked into the auditorium beyond, or perched on the flight cases of lanterns, cloths and props which still littered the stage, having only arrived the day before.

He'd been in the business for over five years now, and he knew the drill- it was the same every time a new company arrived. There was the usual mix of nervous young wannabes starting out, seaside show acts and holiday camp has-beens, and a small handful of 'stars' from Soaps and Stage.

This year didn't look like it would be any different. From his vantage point, Ianto could see one of the male 'turns', dressed in a ridiculously outdated and pretentious military great coat, standing plumb centre stage, arms outstretched as if greeting an appreciative audience. The dark haired man in question burst into an impromptu chorus of 'Night and Day'. At least, Ianto thought, this one was in tune- shouldn't be any problem for Tosh and her mics- if, indeed, the man needed a microphone at all. The man's voice was perfectly clear, loud and (importantly) _in tune_, somewhere between a tenor and a baritone.

He scanned his eyes around the auditorium and, indeed, could just about make out his Sound Engineering equivalent, Toshiko Sato sitting in the centre of the auditorium seats smiling appreciatively, as she tried to gauge the capabilities of the company.

Knowing he couldn't stay up there all day, Ianto stood from his crouching position and made his way to the ladder which led back to stage level. No doubt he would find out more about his new 'workmates' at the Production and Introduction Meeting later that afternoon.

"Brilliant acoustics- I really think we can do something with this. This could be our best show ever sound wise," a confident American accent intoned as Ianto stepped off the ladder Stage Left.

From the wings, the Welshman could see more clearly the people he would be working with for the next two months, and suddenly recognised the man in the military coat from the promotional Aladdin posters and the occasional promotional daytime TV appearance- Jack Harkness. He was well known as a stage musical performer and was fast becoming a household name after his recent appearances as Captain James Harper in the newly revitalised television science fiction series 'Doctor Who'.

Harkness had even been filming in Cardiff recently for a new spin off of 'Doctor Who'; when Ianto had heard this on the Capital's entertainment grapevine, he'd made a mental note to catch up with both series whenever he could- working mainly at weekends and in the evenings severely curtailed his TV viewing, even though he loved sci-fi.

Further inspection of Jack Harkness proved that the man had a confidence which came with just knowing he had a voice to die for, and good looks to match- tall, with chiselled, masculine features, dark hair and bright blue, twinkling eyes which were visible even from Ianto's vantage point in the Wings.

Along with Toshiko and Owen Harper, the Cardiff Grand's in-house Stage Manager, Ianto made his way to the Production Meeting which was scheduled to start at 2 o'clock in one of the theatre's anciliary rooms which were used for meetings and rehearsals. They'd even used it as an impromptu Green Room when large number of performers needed an overflow space. Gwen Cooper, the House Manager, caught them up as they reached the door.

"Thought I was going to be late," she said breathlessly. "I was just on the 'phone to Rhys sorting out dinner tonight." The Technical crew was used to Gwen. She'd joined them about six months ago, having originally worked for the Heddlu, but had decided on a radical career change. Despite her lack of experience she had shocked them all by landing the House Manager's job when it was advertised. She had valiantly struggled to understand Theatre terminology and procedures, and was doing a pretty good job for someone with no knowledge of entertainment or shows. She was devoted to her long suffering fiancé, Rhys, and they all thought that she had perhaps underestimated the fact that working in theatres gave her just about the same amount of free evening and weekend time as being on call or on shifts as a Copper.

The three Technicians and Gwen took their seats in the room, whose only other occupant was Adam, the Company Stage Manager, who gave a cautious "Hi" from his spot perched on the table at the far end of a circle of chairs. Moments later the creaking of the door opening again heralded the arrival of a man, maybe in his fifties, with an Einstein-style shock of grey hair. It was Archie Murchieson, the Grand's Technical Manager, and the only one of the Technical Team that the Production Company had been liaising with directly before their arrival. He was a strange, rather eccentric character, who, although he could have a wicked and dry sense of humour, seemed to suffer from a melancholic yearning for his native Scotland which led to him seeking solace in a bottle of single malt whenever the opportunity presented itself. It also led to him having a lackadaisical attitude to punctuality and work in general. He gave a cheery and slightly inebriated "Hello" and took his place with his team.

Adam looked exasperatedly at his watch. "Hello, Archie. Looks like the actors are arriving fashionably late…"

Ianto thought that Adam looked very young, with his sandy hair and youthful looks- not long out of Drama School or some kind of Drama degree, perhaps. It wouldn't be long before he stopped expecting things to run to a timetable, or using the more reverential term 'actor'.

"We wouldn't have expected anything less- it's a turn's prerogative to miss their cues," Archie said sarcastically.

Adam snorted at the comment and smiled. "Let's hope we don't have too much trouble with _that_ on this show." He nodded towards Ianto and his colleagues. "Adam Smith, Company Stage Manager for my sins…"

Quick introductions took place and then the door opened again, and the cast appeared en masse and filed into the room, filling the empty seats.

As soon as the cast were settled the young Company Manager cleared his throat, "Right guys, this is just an informal introduction session and then we'll finish off with few changes to the rehearsal schedules that Archie and me have come up with to co-incide with the rigging…"

Adam launched into the introductions for the cast and Ianto and his fellow Techies nodded and smiled their greetings in all the right places. As the actors and acts were introduced in some arcane, ascending hierarchical order, Ianto spotted Rose Tyler, recently departed from EastEnders, after a supposedly dramatic crash at Walford Tube station, and Angharad Davies. She was a stalwart of Pobol Y Cwm- the Welsh soap; she was only in her mid twenties, but had been in the show since her early teens. He didn't really follow any of the soap operas other than accidentally seeing the odd episode after he got in from work, but he did remember their pictures from the brightly coloured show posters and flyers.

The final actor to be introduced was Jack Harkness, grinning like a Cheshire Cat- and clearly the biggest draw in the show since his success in the nation's favourite sci-fi programme. Since the days when women always played the Principal Boy, it had become common for men to take the lead role. Ianto missed the days of short skirts, fishnets, thigh length boots and the associated 'thigh slapping'- as a kid, the shapely woman playing the male lead had been one of the major draws of any Pantomime. He was sure that his dad had felt the same, too, when he'd enthusiatically volunteered to take him to the local Christmas shows instead of Saturday matinees at the Electro Cinema. These days, political correctness often dictated that a female lead, playing a man, was too confusing for young audiences and now men usually played the role. So it was that Jack Harkness was to play the lead role of 'Aladdin'. Ianto wondered how long it would take 'political correctness' to declare that 'dames' were equally confusing…

Next it was the turn of The Grand's Technicians.

"Right guys. These are your Technicians, the ones whose monumental task it is to make you all look and _sound_ good," Adam said to the cast members, giving a particularly pointed look towards Rose Tyler, who would be playing the part of Princess Jasmine.

"First of all, here's Archie Murchison, Technical Manager, and next we have Toshiko Sato, your sound engineer, piss her off at your peril- she knows where the mute buttons for your mics are. Next to Tosh we have Owen Harper. He's The Grand's Stage Manager, we'll both be working the stage for this production, Owen on Prompt Side as DSM, giving the cues, and I'll be Stage Right and Back Stage, away from the Book, where I can keep an eye on you all." He paused for a moment as the cast took in the information and everyone and then gestured towards Ianto. "And this is Ianto Jones, Head Lighting Engineer, and in charge of making you lot look as good as you think you do."

The last comment was greeted with a laugh from Jack Harkness and Ianto found himself greeted with a dazzling smile from the man himself, and fixed with twinkling sapphire eyes. If the rest of the cast were looking at him, he failed to notice. What he did notice, irritatingly, was that, close to, Harkness was even more attractive than his television appearances and promo shots gave him credit for. He pondered just exactly where that thought had come from and swiftly put it down to simple envy, but he still felt his cheeks warm under the scrutiny. He was relieved when Adam continued with the final introduction.

"Gwen Cooper here is the House Manager, in charge of everything Front of House, from the small army of ushers and usherettes, to giving us the all clear for the show," Adam said with a hand wave towards the Welshwoman. Regardless of the fact that Ianto had a soft spot for her, she was never one to shy away from attention and he watched as she positively glowed under the gaze of the cast. "You can meet the rest of the on-stage crew tomorrow, when they'll be back in to start rigging the cloths and getting stage ready for the Tech."

He quickly handed out the timetable for the next week and a half, pointing out that it was subject to change, as he continued to brief them on the schedule.

**To Be Continued…**

DSM= Deputy Stage Manager.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"

**Rating:** Varies between chapters- possible mature content in later chapters

**Spoilers/Disclaimers: **Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters. It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.

**Summary:** Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK Theatre/Entertainment.

**Chapter List: **.

**Chapter 2: "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"**

xxx

"So, how was _your _day?" Lisa asked as she handed Ianto an opened bottle of Beck's as he collapsed, exhausted, onto the sofa.

He looked over at her and smiled as she sank into an armchair and then sipped at her glass of white wine. "Same old, same old. You know what Panto's like. How about you?"

Lisa was the Wardrobe Mistress at the Cardiff Arts Theatre, and she was getting ready for their rival (and altogether more serious and worthy) festive play- an updated version of 'A Christmas Carol'- for over a week now. He sometimes felt that she viewed some of the entertainment based shows that he worked on at The Grand as frivolous and tacky- not 'real theatre' at all. It didn't bother Ianto one little bit; entertainment often offered a Lighting Engineer more freedom and more variety than 'real theatre'.

Lisa Hallett and Ianto had met in London, when they'd both been studying Drama and Theatre at King's College. It had been love, or at least a 'crush', at first sight for Ianto, who had been well and truly dumbfounded when she had agreed to meet him for a beer at the Student Union bar a couple of weeks after they'd first met on the Second Year 'Stage Management' module. The two had hit it off and were soon dating. Six months later they moved into a flat on the Edgware Road. After they had both graduated, Ianto worked at the Theatre Royal and quickly garnered a reputation as an innovative and creative Lighting Designer; several of the shows he'd worked on had been nominated in the Oliviers and Evening Standard Awards, amongst others, and he had been in the running for a few awards for Best Lighting. Some of the proudest moments of his life so far where when his name had been called out as a winner at the Lighting Design Awards and a couple of his designs had been part of features in Lighting and Sound magazine.

It was only when his father had become ill that he started to question his career; two months later he had secured a post at The Cardiff Grand and convinced an initially reluctant Lisa to move back to Wales with him. Soon after, Lisa had news that her job application for the Arts Theatre had been successful.

"I've had to let out Patsy's outfit again- she's definitely been letting herself go since she was on Strictly Come Dancing. Came in with a Quarter Pounder meal with extra onion rings today."

Ianto laughed and Lisa took another slurp of her drink.

"So, then, what's the cast and company like?" she asked.

"The usual selection of wannabes and holiday camp entertainers… but we've got that actress who's just left EastEnders as the princess… what's she called? Rose…?"

"Oh, you mean Rose Tyler. She should bring the crowds in."

Ianto was sure he'd told Lisa all about the cast list when they'd started advertising the show in the Autumn, but he let it slide. "We've got Angharad Davies from Pobol y Cwm , too- that should bring in the local crowd. She's playing the fairy."

Lisa looked distinctly unimpressed- she'd not really been enthusiastic about the move to Cardiff, and she avoided all the local programmes and Welsh language TV.

"We've got Jack Harkness as Aladdin, too. Y'know? He was in a few of the episodes in that new series of Doctor Who."

Lisa's interest was piqued. "Now you're talking! If he doesn't get the kids- and the mothers- in, there's no hope for live theatre. What's he like? Does he look as good as he does on the telly?"

Ianto rolled his eyes and took another sip of beer; wait until he told his sister- she'd be just as inquisitive when she found out he was working with the actor. "I've not really met any of them properly yet… but, yes, he does look as good as he does on TV- and he knows it. He's got one hell of a voice, though. Tosh is already getting a bit _overexcited_ about working with him."

"Mmm… I _bet_ she is…" Lisa said with envy and set her now empty wine glass down on the coffee table. "I bet _all_ the women are."

Ianto looked over and belatedly noticed that she was dressed for a Friday night out, even though it was only a Wednesday; her hair was perfectly styled and she was wearing the little black dress that she'd worn to their last anniversary meal. He loved that dress; the sateen finish of the fabric complimented her dark skin, and the bold silver jewellery that she so often wore only highlighted the simplistic tailoring which showed off her figure to perfection. "Are you off out?"

"Oh… yeah." Her eyes darted away and she pointedly studied the rug on the floor. "Is that OK? A few of the girls are meeting up for drinks- letting off a bit of steam before we get into the Christmas run."

"'Course it is, Lisa. Going anywhere good?" It was hardly worth objecting, she was already dressed for the occasion, and Ianto was pretty sure he wasn't going to be the best of company anyway- it had been a busy week, getting the stage rigged and ready for the backcloths and set that had only arrived that day, and he had no doubt that he would be fast asleep soon after finishing his dinner. He briefly reflected on the fact that Lisa seemed to be going out more and more often these days. Well, he thought, they were both young, and with no kids on the horizon for the foreseeable future, why not make the most of life while you could?

"We're meeting at The Admiral and grabbing a bite to eat. Then I guess we'll just make our way 'round a few bars. There's some Moussaka in the freezer that you can have for dinner, by the way, or look through the 'fridge. I think there's some salad." Distractedly Lisa looked at the time on her 'phone and leapt to her feet. "And if I don't get moving I'll be late- we're meeting at half seven."

She quickly headed towards the hallway to collect her coat, only pausing to place a cursory peck on the top of Ianto's head. "See you later, love… Don't wait up," she called out as she left the flat.

Ianto turned on the television, finished his beer, and came to the conclusion that the microwaveable Moussaka was clearly the easiest option for dinner. Best to make the most of it now- soon enough, when the rehearsals and show were in full swing, he'd probably only have time for quick snacks and takeaways.

xxx

**To Be Continued…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

**A/N: **Another AU, I'm afraid! Fun, friendship, romance and behind the scenes shenanigens… focussing on Ianto Jones (a lighting engineer) and Jack Harkness (a jobbing actor/'turn').

**Chapter 3**

The next couple of days of rigging cloths and fixing the sets passed by in a blur, with the Cardiff Grand's main crew pitching in whilst the cast were ensconced in their rehearsal room, going through their lines. Christmas time (and the accompanying Pantomime) was the main time that the Grand employed a large, full Stage Crew- drawn from the Theatre's pool of casual and usually part-time staff- and work had been quick; most of the year, the touring companies more frequently brought their own Crews. The winter months were therefore often the Cardiff casual workers' biggest earner.

By the end of Friday the theatre was ready for the coming week of figuring out where and how the sets and props would be placed on stage, Tech and the final Dress rehearsals. Adam Smith had decided that the last two days of hard work would be rewarded by a night out and a chance for everyone involved in Aladdin to get to know each other a little better before the punishing week ahead. The Technicians didn't really need an excuse for a trip to the pub, and greeted the invitation enthusiastically- even more so when Adam revealed that the first four of rounds would be on Hartmann Productions.

As workmates do, they had clustered together around the bar tables that had been pushed together- Techs on one side, 'turns' on the other. To the other patrons of the pub, the mismatched group looked almost as if they were separate factions, ready to negotiate over a few pints. An hour or two later and the group had mingled, as drinks were ordered and 'smoke breaks' taken, the two groups had slowly mixed.

As Ianto had listened to the everyone's comments, tales of shows gone by and stage disasters it seemed as if the cast he would be working with would be cooperative and friendly. Perhaps not the idiots that he'd initially thought, even if they were a little self-absorbed.

Currently Jack Harkness was in the middle of a story about one of his most embarrassing moments on stage, although from the sound of it, he'd had more than his fair share.

"…I mean, I was mortified! It was my first Panto and there I was working with Barbara Windsor and Darren Day. I'd only just recovered from tripping over a stage weight in the dark as I went on stage and then I banged into a tree flat and my breeches snagged on the wood and the flat fell over. Next thing I knew I was standing there in the centre of stage with no trousers on- the damned thing had ripped them off! They were one of my quick change costumes and they were only held on with Velcro!"

The punchline was greeted with a combination of laughter and horrified "Oh, My God!"s from some of the greener performers.

"What did you do?" Rose asked.

"The only thing we could- went on with the show! Babs came on at the speed of light, waved her wand, giggled like a maniac and made some joke about it. I just thank God I was wearing boxers…"

There was more laughter.

Ianto wasn't a regular smoker, but a few drinks had left him with the need for a cigarette so he excused himself and headed for the Smoking Area.

Jack Harkness left the Gents in a swirl of grey twill. The pub was busy and hot, and along with his need to relieve himself, was the need for some fresh air, so he'd headed to the lavatory wearing his military coat, ready for a few minutes to himself outside in the cool winter air. He looked to his right as he made his way along the corridor which led back to the main Saloon Room and pub. His eyes were immediately drawn to the only occupant of the outside area, which was bathed in the red light of the outside heaters. It was the lighting engineer, Ianto Jones, if he remembered the unusual and almost unpronounceable Welsh name correctly- and he was sure he did. He'd been drawn to the man's rich, deep accent at their first production meeting; next he'd noticed the retroussé nose and engaging smile, coupled with the slim, but not too much so, frame. The actor's efforts to get to know the crew- and, in particular, Ianto- had been foiled by constant off stage rehearsals for the last few days.

The young man was leaning against a tall bar table, and Jack couldn't help but notice the way that well tailored black jeans emphasized the length of Ianto's legs, and, better still, the firm curve of the young man's behind. A dark, charcoal shirt topped off with an equally dark waistcoat, the dark maroon silk of which stretched enticingly across a strong back, completed the vision. With his dark hair and clear, blue eyes Ianto Jones was gorgeous- perhaps not classically so, but certainly _very_ attractive. On second thoughts, the Welshman was _perfect_.

So far, Jack hadn't had the chance to talk with the man, save for the odd hello or nod of greeting.

Jack wrapped his coat around him and pushed open the door before stepping into the cold.

Ianto exhaled and then his attention was drawn by the creak of the pub door. He turned to see the lead actor.

Harkness gave a slightly nervous smile. "It's bloody roasting in there… Ianto."

"It would be, in that coat…" Ianto's eyes raked up and down Jack.

Jack laughed. "I only put this on 'cause I knew I had to get outside- it's suffocating in there…"

"You're not joking- it's tropical in there." Ianto regarded the overcoat; it really shouldn't look so good on anyone in this day and age, but the actor carried off the look admirably. "It is a good coat, though…"

"I could say the same about the waistcoat…" Jack laughed before gesturing back at the coat. "It's a prop… I kinda got used to it while I was filming recently. And it's warm, and surprisingly waterproof for your Welsh rain." He grinned, and Ianto was surprised to find that the smile was warm and welcoming rather than the insincere, self-congratulatory rictus that he was used to from the performers he usually came across.

"Well, you'll need that here- it never stops raining." He took another drag on his cigarette, retrieved the red and white cigarette packet from his waistcoat pocket and offered it to the other man.

Jack shook his head. "No thanks- I don't smoke."

"That figures, with a voice like yours. Neither do I usually- smoke I mean- it's just been a busy week." The Welshman paused. "Anyway, I suppose this TV series you've been filming is the Doctor Who one?"

"Well, it's not really Doctor Who- it's sort of a spin off. Me swishing around in this coat," he grinned again and turned, causing the coat to flare out a little. "Fighting unknown threats and saving the world with my team of sexy young alien hunters!"

Ianto snorted out a laugh. "You've sold me. When's it going to be on?"

"I think it's scheduled for March, but I'm not sure yet."

"I'll give it a go- you can't beat a bit of good, old British sci-fi."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so you're a bit of a Whoniverse fan?"

"Only when I get time, this job tends to get in the way of Saturday prime time entertainment. But there's always i-Player."

Jack nodded in knowing agreement. "You're right there- I only saw my Doctor Who episodes 'cause they sent me a disc."

Ianto finished the last of his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table. "Well that's me finished. You coming back inside?"

By the time the two men returned to the Vault, Angharad had moved into Jack's seat and was now talking animatedly with Rose Tyler on what appeared to be the subject of costumes. The actor quickly scanned the table and noted his almost empty glass.

"Fancy a drink? Looks like I need another one," Jack asked nodding his head towards the table.

Ianto looked over at his own nearly finished pint of bitter. "Yeah, looks like I'm in the same position," he said and reached into one of the waistcoat pockets.

"It's OK, I'll get these."

"Oh… Alright. How about I get the next round, Jack?"

Jack leaned against the bar and smiled. "It's a deal."

As he waited for the barmaid to take his order the actor took in the fact that Ianto was standing shoulder to shoulder with him at the packed bar, so close that he could smell his aftershave- Farenheit, if he was correct about the sweet and heady smell of violets- mixed with the faint, and not altogether unpleasant, masculine smell of work and sweat, and, finally, smoke. He felt a tingle in his spine, and shuddered a little and found that he didn't mind the smoke at all.

Returning to the group of Panto turns and Techies, Ianto took his seat as Jack's eyes darted around the table, looking for a place now that his own chair was occupied. To his delight, the nearest available seat was next to Ianto.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Sure… if you don't mind being bored senseless with Technical talk."

Jack sank into the chair, and fifteen minutes later he was deep in conversation with Ianto. He hadn't needed to worry about baffling techno-babble; Owen, Tosh and Chris, one of the other crew members were arguing about the merits of the new Allen and Heath digital sound desk, while he was having an altogether more interesting time, talking to Ianto. It turned out that the young Welshman wasn't quite the provincial Theatre worker that he'd first thought. He'd worked in the West End with quite some success, and only moved back to Wales to be closer to family and his roots. The two men had even worked with some of the same people, which led to some rather revealing and risqué anecdotes about their ex-colleagues. Disappointingly, he had also found out that Ianto had a girlfriend, and not a casual one at that. But, the Welshman was good company and more than easy on the eye, and that disappointment had been quickly replaced with the feeling that he may well have made a new friend.

"So, how come an American's taking over British TV and stage?"

"Well," Jack started. "Who wouldn't want to? The UK's got the best theatre in the world… And, strictly speaking, I'm not American. I'm Scottish… I've even got a British passport!"

If Ianto was surprised it was only made evident with a querying raise of his right eyebrow.

"I was born in Glasgow…"

Now the younger man truly did look surprised.

"Yeah, we only moved to the US when I was ten, but we always kept in touch with everyone back home. I don't think I can remember a family holiday before I was seventeen which didn't involve Caledonian drizzle. So if you think the Welsh weather will defeat me, well, I've got form."

"Scotland certainly is good practice for the Welsh weather," Ianto sniggered. "And there was me thinking that it was the aim of most actors over here to get to the bright lights of the States, not the other way round."

"What can I say? I like to be different. And anyway, I don't think Americans get 'entertainment' and theatre like they do over here. For a start, you'd never get the opportunity to do Panto. Can't get their heads around Dames as suitable kids' entertainment, I guess!"

"Thank God they've never been exposed to a Principal Boy, then!"

"Too right," Jack agreed. "Someone should bring them back- I always loved the fishnets and high heeled boots as a kid!"

"Who didn't?" Ianto smiled. "Although you should be careful what you wish for- you'd be out of a job! Unless you were willing to wear the tights, of course…"

"I'd give it a go!" Jack gave a loud chuckle, and then leaned towards Ianto conspiratorially. "And I'll have you know that I've got the legs for them…"

The two men continued to chat and Ianto had to concede that Jack wasn't quite what he had expected at all; true he was loud and a little overconfident- qualities needed in abundance in his job- but he was friendly and funny, and lacked the arrogance and stand-offishness so often found in his counterparts.

As Ianto sat in the taxi back to his flat, he realised that Jack Harkness had had a monopoly on his company that evening. He also realised that it had been one of his best nights out in the last year.

**To Be Continued…**


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

**A/N: **Another AU, I'm afraid! Fun, friendship, romance and behind the scenes shenanigens… focussing on Ianto Jones (a lighting engineer) and Jack Harkness (a jobbing actor/'turn'). Apologies, again, for lj's expected font changes.

**Chapter 4**

xxx

The sets were unwieldy; the stage crew had spent the Monday afternoon trying to block their positions on stage, only to find that they had had to re-jig where they would be placed. There just wasn't time during the scene changes and blackout to set them. The team had had its work cut out, moving cloths and backdrops and altering the flatage and sets.

The work on stage wasn't necessarily down to Ianto and Toshiko, as Lighting and Sound Techs, but at times like this they all pulled together whenever possible- after all the two engineers would be lighting and mic-ing up the finished show. It was in their best interest to make sure that their equipment would work.

Ianto had been frustrated with the entire process- but that was nothing new. Every time an outside crew and cast came in, the Grand's Team had to show them how to work with the backstage layout and its idiosyncrasies. The theatre's crew knew every nook and cranny of the old building, knew the sight lines and Wing space- what would work and what wouldn't. Every show had its own challenges, and not every show would work on the aged, non standard stage.

xxx

At five in the afternoon the Grand's full time staff let the extra crew go to get ready for an early start the next day, while the rest of them stayed for a few more hours finishing off the day's work, but not before they'd ordered in some Chinese takeaway to keep them going.

xxx

Sitting round the table in the staff room, the crew chatted about their day before thoughts turned to their new colleagues for the next month or so.

"So," Owen said with a pause to stuff a whole mini spring roll into his mouth, before he continued, just about audibly as he chewed away. "What do you think about them?"

Gwen, who was in charge of locking up the auditorium when they'd all finished, looked at him, all wide-eyed and questioning.

Owen caught the unasked question. "The cast," he clarified.

"They seem nice enough," Gwen trailed off.

"Well, I think that Rose is a bit of alright," Owen stated and reached for the last spring roll.

"Owen," Ianto chastised, with a roll of his eyes. He made sure that the paper napkin that he'd tucked into his shirt was still safely in place.

"OK, OK… what about Harkness then?"

Toshiko reached for her noodles expertly with the disposable chopsticks. "What about him?"

"Well, he's obviously gay…" Owen replied.

"No, he's not. Really… do you think?" Gwen said and looked around at her colleagues. She might be engaged, but she'd been unable to stop herself from eyeing up the actor.

"No, I don't- that's just Owen. He likes to think that every male is gay. Gives him a better chance, or so he likes to believe…" said Toshiko drily, taking in a mouthful of stir fried vegetables and tofu.

"Tosh… period military is _not_ the dress code of a straight man," Owen tried to make his point.

Ianto rolled his eyes again.

Gwen had a dreamy look. "I think it suits him. It's sort of classic…"

"Well, what do you think, Teaboy?" Owen asked using his nickname for Ianto, due to the Welshman's obsession with the staffroom coffee machine and accompanying beverage- despite the fact that tea itself never really gave the needed caffeine filled kick that an espresso did. "You and him seemed to be getting all pally the other night."

"The coat's a prop from his new TV series… and I really don't care whether he's gay or not, Owen."

Tosh quickly interjected. "I've heard on the grapevine that he'll shag anyone if they're gorgeous enough…"

"My point exactly!" Owen said triumphantly. "Not straight. Or, at least, not totally straight..."

"Does it matter?" Ianto was getting bored with the conversation.

"It does if he's going to do Rose Tyler!"

"Do you really have to be so crude?" Gwen said. She had a fantasy, which she didn't want to reveal to the others, that the American would sweep her off her feet. "And you're only hoping he's gay so you can try it on with her."

"A man's gotta work these things out, Gwen," was all that Owen replied.

Luckily Toshiko interrupted the train of the conversation. "Shouldn't we be getting on with planning the next couple of hours? I'd really like to get home before I'm due to get up and get in here for tomorrow's rehearsals…"

Gwen and Ianto quickly agreed and forced the conversation towards more directly work related matters.

xxx

Tuesday's Tech rehearsals went well, but showed up the shortfalls of the placement of some of Ianto's lanterns now that the positioning of some of the sets had been modified. Add to that, some of the lights simply weren't working.

He picked up the Lighting board's remote control and wearily rolled out the scaff tower from the Stage Right wings where it was kept during Production week, and placed it under the Specials- lights designed to highlight certain actors, scenes or sets- before climbing to the top. The lanterns just weren't accessible via the gantries and walkways above, and they needed moving, re-focussing and simply sorting out.

The Engineer was alone in the darkened auditorium. Strictly speaking, Health and Safety rules dictated that he shouldn't be working alone at heights, but the rest of the crew were exhausted and Ianto had ushered them out of the theatre, assuring them all that he would be careful (after all, in his job, working at heights- and in the dark- was more or less an everyday occurrence which didn't bother the man at all), and lock up the Hall when he'd done.

It was tiring work, every time he'd finished work on one set of lights he had to climb down and then drag the tower over to the next set of lights to be worked on, before climbing back up to start on another group. At least the remote controller didn't force him to have to leave the stage and switch the lights on and off at the lighting desk- and a good thing, too; some of the bigger ones were two Kilowatts, and if they were switched on for any length of time they quickly became too hot to handle.

Ianto had reached Centre Stage when he heard the Back Stage entrance door creak open, and footsteps making their way onto stage. The theatre security guard, Andy, he assumed. He looked down from the platform and was surprised to see that the footsteps belonged to Jack Harkness, who quickly spotted the tower in the middle of the stage and looked up.

"Hi… anyone there?" he called out as he peered upwards.

"Just me," Ianto called down, leaning over and catching Jack's eye. "I thought you lot had gone home too?"

"Well, yeah… there's only me left. I was on my way out, and thought I'd see if I could have a quick half hour practising that Act One finale song- it sounds different in here."

Ianto smiled. Each auditorium had its own acoustics; it was no wonder that a singer as good as Jack wanted to check them out.

"Anyway, what are you doing still here?" Jack shouted up. The shouting wasn't really that necessary- Cardiff Grand had excellent, if a little unusual, acoustics. Even Deustsche Grammophon, the Welsh Symphony Orchestra and the Welsh National Opera had used the building for recordings- with Toshiko Sato giving valuable advice in the background.

"Just doing a bit of refocussing. Y'know, getting things ready for you and your precious lot's rehearsals tomorrow." Ianto's tone was playful and friendly and it garnered a laugh from the so-called American.

"Can I come up?" he asked.

"I'm not sure that's wise Jack. I won't be popular if I allow Hartmann's leading man up here and he falls off."

"Hey, I'm good at heights! And I'll have you know that I actually know quite a bit about lighting- I even did a bit at college in the States. And two pairs of hands are quicker than one."

The actor threw his coat onto a nearby flight case and already had his foot on the first rung of the tower's ladder. Ianto shook his head. The other man appeared to be determined and wasn't to be dissuaded. "OK."

Jack made his way to the top swiftly and soon he was climbing through the small trap door and onto the top platform; Ianto was impressed and wished his own crew treated heights with such ease and confidence.

"So, what can I do?" Jack grinned enthusiastically.

"Well, I've just finished refocusing and gelling a couple of lights but somewhere in that _mess_," Ianto pointed disgustedly to a large tangle of wires taped to the lighting bar- that was definitely the last time he was allowing Owen to help with the rigging, however behind time he was. "Are some faulty cables."

"I'm onto it. So… untangle and test the cables? You got a multimeter, or are we gonna do this manually?"

Ianto was surprised, and that surprise was clearly etched on his face if Jack's reaction was anything to go by.

"Hey, it wasn't _all_ greasepaint and pretending to be a tree at college! And I did my fair share of back stage work in the early days."

The Lighting Engineer laughed and reached into a waistcoat pocket and produced his multimeter. His liking for waistcoats wasn't a fashion statement as such, much as he liked them; he'd long ago found that the numerous pockets provided ample storage for all manner of things: PVC tape, bolts, spanners… and the meter he was currently holding.

"Right, then. Let's get moving. Sooner we get this lot sorted out, the sooner we can both get out of here. Where's the problem?"

Ianto pointed to the offending lanterns and watched as the actor methodically began tracing his hands along the wires, strong but slim fingers seeking out the connecting cables amongst the knots. If all the crew were this enthusiastic, Ianto was sure that he could cut rigging time in half. He briefly thought about asking if Jack had ever thought of giving up acting for life as a Technician here in Cardiff.

xxx

The work was done quickly and, true to Jack's word, he had turned out to know a lot more about technical matters than the average 'turn'. The two men finished up and Ianto produced his trusty roll of PVC tape (from another waistcoat pocket) and neatly taped up the now fixed cables.

Ianto climbed down the ladders first, holding a handful of now defunct extension leads. Jack followed, perhaps a little too hastily; the Welshman saw the accident before it had even happened, but it all occured too quickly for him to stop it. As Jack descended, his foot slipped off the dusty second-to-last rung, and the actor stumbled and lost his footing.

The next thing he knew, Ianto had an armful of 'American' leading man, the surprise causing him to stagger backwards. Seconds later, he had tumbled to the floor, Jack on top of him, chuckling heartily.

Winded by the fall, all Ianto could do was lie there, underneath the warm, heavy weight of the other man, the smell of Jack's cologne filling his nostrils. What was that? If he hadn't been so shocked by the intimate- and possibly inappropriate- position he found himself in, he would have asked him what it was. Their faces were mere inches apart and the Welshman was momentarily entranced by smiling dark blue pupils the colour of lapis, and laughter lines which played at the corners of Jack's eyes. Ianto hadn't thought much about the actor's age, but now, close to, he estimated him to be in his mid-thirties or so; still, he wore his age well…

As Ianto's breathing evened out, he started to come to his senses and rolled the pair of them over, pushing himself to his knees before standing up. He reached out a hand, which was quickly grasped and he helped Jack to his feet. The hand was equally quickly withdrawn as soon as they were both upright.

"Sorry," Jack apologised. "Looks like I'm more out of practice with this than I thought. Are you OK?"

"Sure… Thanks for the help. I owe you a drink." He checked his wristwatch, feeling oddly discomfited. It was just past half seven. By the time they'd pushed the scaff tower into the wings and he'd locked up and clocked off it would easily be eight o'clock.

"I'll hold you to that at the First Night party." Jack seemed to sense that the young man was ill at ease and eager to get home, but nevertheless, smiled.

"Again, it's a deal. Come on then, let's get this thing out of the way and lock up."

xxx

**To Be Continued…**

Scaff- short for scaffold.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

A big thanks to everyone who's reading!

**Chapter 5**

xxx

Owen sat at the table in the staff room, nursing a glass of fizzing Alka Seltzer.

"Good night, Owen?" Ianto asked as he entered the room and stared at the percolating coffee machine. "Have you been messing with the coffee machine?"

"Yeah, I needed caffeine… ugh… it was two for one on premium spirits at The Red Dragon," He groaned and gulped down the liquid painkiller. "What time did you get done last night?"

"Just after seven thirty, no thanks to you! What were you up to up there? Knitting?"

Owen looked both confused and in a certain amount of pain, as he waited for the effervescent analgesics to take effect.

"The cables Owen. If it hadn't been for the fact that Jack gave me a hand I'd probably still be up there untangling that mess."

"Jack?" said Owen, incredulously.

"Jack Harkness. He came on stage and gave me a hand. Turns out he'd make a pretty good Technician."

"Hell, Ianto. Carry on mixing with the turns and next thing you know you'll be wearing a bloody tutu and playing the Panto Fairy."

"Panto Fairy?" The door opened and Toshiko arrived.

"Looks like Ianto's fraternising with the enemy… He had Jack bloody Harkness helping him out with the Lighting last night!"

"Jack Harkness?"

"I've just had this conversation, Tosh," Ianto said, getting bored. "He helped me out with the focussing and sorting out the faulty wiring- he's done a bit of back stage work. At least it had something to do with work- you're a fine one to talk with your past record at trying to get the turns and twirlies into bed."

Perking up, Owen chose to ignore the last sentence. "You ought to know better than to trust actors who pretend to know what they're doing on stage, Tea Boy."

"I ought to know better than to trust Stage Managers who pretend to know what _they're_ doing on stage." He poured himself a large mug of black coffee and sniffed it experimentally. "Want a cup, Tosh? Although I ought to warn you that Owen made it. If it's as bad as his rigging you may want to give it a miss."

Toshiko laughed and looked at the time on her mobile. "I'll have to give him the benefit of the doubt. No time for a trip out to Costa- it's almost time for Tech to start, you two."

That turned out to be the longest proper chat that the three had the rest of that working day. Twelve hours of marking the positions of the sets on stage and last minute adjustments, and the tabs were closed on the Technical Rehearsal, with Owen mumbling that the whole thing could have been done and dusted in time for Happy Hour at the local round the corner if "_some _bloody turns hadn't hi-jacked the sodding proceedings and used them as an extension of the Dress Rehearsal."

Still, the team and a few of the cast members made their way to the pub as soon as they could. A couple of drinks to wind down was what they all needed.

xxx

Jack arrived ten minutes late at The Aneurin Bevan. By the time he'd washed and removed the stage make-up that he'd been wearing to make sure that the lights were right, and got changed, he was one of the last out of the Dressing Rooms.

He looked around the room for a second or two, but it wasn't too hard to spot the large group of Aladdin refugees. He spotted Chris, one of the stage hands. Chris was from Manchester and had a penchant for eyeliner, diamonté earring studs and some of the most flamboyant mannerisms Jack had ever seen- and that was saying quite a lot from someone in his career; the guy would be easy, if you liked that kind of thing. But Jack didn't- even if from their brief acquaintance he seemed nice and amusing enough. Chris was just that bit too _camp._ Jack didn't consider himself gay, but equally he knew he wasn't straight either- instead, he liked to think he was unbiased about such matters as gender. Whatever he decided to categorise himself as, he just didn't have an affinity with some of the more 'over the top' aspects of the UK gay scene, even though he might make his bread and butter in entertainment and musical theatre.

There was only one person he wanted to see. Ianto Jones. It wasn't that Jack thought he stood a chance; it had become abundantly clear as soon as he'd talked to Ianto that the man was straight, with a well and truly permanent girlfriend to boot. No matter- Jack was going to be far too busy to indulge his baser instincts, what with the show _and_ some of the associated promotion work for the new television series, 'Torchwood'. He was happy enough just hanging out with Ianto, and maybe he could hold the Welshman to that 'First Night Party drink' a few days early.

But there was no sign of Ianto, or Owen and Toshiko, for that matter. He decided that he'd just have the one drink, make his excuses and then leave. Mind made up, he leant against the bar and waited for the barmaid to finish serving the customer to his right, a task which seemed to be taking an age due to the young woman's inability to remember the large order.

Just when it appeared he was finally about to be served he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Ianto, with Toshiko and Owen standing just behind.

"You haven't been served then yet, have you? We've only just finished up at the Theatre."

"Hi Ianto… Owen Toshiko… just about to order now," he replied as the barmaid appeared in front of him.

"I'll get these. I seem to remember promising you a drink for helping out," Ianto smiled and pushed in towards the bar brandishing a twenty pound note in his hand.

"Now there's an offer I can't resist, especially if you're going to start using those beautiful Welsh vowels on me." The actor broke into one of his 'best' toothy (and just a little cheesy) grins and observed that Ianto appeared to be flushing at his comment- either that or the pub was overly hot after the chilly nighttime air.

xxx

Jack stretched to another two drinks. He had ended up sitting on the edge of the large group along with the three other latecomers. Owen Harper's initial acerbic attitude belied a barbed sense of humour, with, much as the Stage Manager tried his best to hide it, a large helping of loyalty and respect towards his friends and colleagues. As for Toshiko Sato, it transpired that she was an enormous science fiction fan, but without some of the more obsessive traits of her fellow enthusiasts. So, for once, Jack didn't mind the discussion she initiated about the pros and cons of the 'New Who' versus the classic version. She'd been as surprised as Ianto, when Jack revealed that, contrary to popular belief, he had spent a great deal of his life in Britain - and Doctor Who was seen as 'must see' entertainment to his parents. He wasn't new to the show when he got the casting call.

It would have been nice to speak to Ianto a little more he thought, and then reminded himself that the Welshman was off limits, and, anyhow, he wasn't here to pick up the locals. On top of that, he didn't need any complications just now. For over fifteen years he had plugged away: children's TV in the UK when the work in the States wasn't forthcoming (and who remembered _those_ appearances on Saturday morning telly now?), understudy duty and minor roles in hit musicals. Sure, later he'd had his successes, and quite a number of accolades, but, until recently, he was far from being the star he had aimed to be when he first started out. His appearances in Doctor Who had finally brought him to the fore. It was make or break time, and he fully intended to take full advantage of the opportunity.

xxx

**To Be Continued…**

**Notes: **

Tabs- colloquial: curtains. Real usage- curtains that mask the wings/side of stage.

Twirlies/ twirlys- dancing girls. Can be a term of ridicule.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

**A/N: **All typos etc. are mine- after reading through this several times, I'm beginning to be unable to see all the errors!

**Chapter 6**

xxx

The schedule for the next few days was more gruelling than the last week, with its rigging and Tech rehearsals, and had only been made bearable for the Technicians by vast quantities of Ianto's superior coffee. The coffee machine had been moved up into the Lighting Booth and Control Room and Owen had been banned from using it, with dire threats of the consequences of ignoring the ban.

xxx

For a man such as Jack, so used to London's West End and much longer preparation time for a show- sometimes weeks of informal and formal rehearsals followed by a week, maybe up to a month, of Previews- the schedule was hectic. But he had cut his teeth first on American daytime soaps, and later, in the UK, on live TV shows and provincial musicals, as well as his own fair share of Pantos. He threw himself into work, a tactic which left him a little less time to ponder his attraction to Ianto Jones.

xxx

The curtain fell on what had been, to all intents and purposes, a successful First Night for Aladdin. There had been moments of panic as the crew had raced against time to complete the quick scene changes, or when lighting and sound cues were a few seconds too late, but nothing that the audience had appeared to notice- their applause had caused two extra curtain calls at the end of the show.

Back stage, Adam, who had kept the cast back for ten minutes, congratulated them before reminding them all that the Grand's large function cum rehearsal room- The Anthony Hopkins Suite- was set for the First Night party.

"So, well done, you lot," Owen added. "And if I were you, I'd get a move on getting changed- I have it on good authority that the bar's free for the first hour…" _He_ certainly didn't intend to hang around. He had even agreed to leave re-setting the Stage for Sunday's matinée until the next day. After a quick wash and brush up, it was his aim to be among the first in that queue for a free drink.

xxx

Sitting in front of the large Dressing Room mirror, wiping off the greasepaint with a large, soft tissue soaked in cold cream, Jack heard a loud knock accompanied with soft feminine tones- "Jack, it's only me, Martha."

Martha Jones was Jack's Agent, and he also considered her one of his best friends. They had met when she was first starting out and he'd been pretty low down on the West End circuit; dissatisfied with his own Agent, he'd quickly signed up with her. Almost, ten years, later and she was still in her early thirties, but was quickly becoming one of the most successful Agents in London's Theatreland.

"Come on in!" he shouted.

Martha pushed open the door. "Darling, you were great. We're on a winner!"

"Ah, the Voice of a Nightingale!" Jack watched her reflection through the mirror as she entered the Dressing room.

She walked over and kissed him on the cheek oblivious to the traces of stage make-up still there. "That was just brilliant, Jack. As you know, I'm not the biggest fan of Panto, but I loved _every_ minute of it!"

Jack knew that wasn't necessarily true- Martha happily filtered out anything which hadn't got anything to do with the big, set pieces, concentrating more on the crowd pleasers. She viewed everything as he did: a job. But if that job could propel you forward to bigger and better things, maybe get a bit more publicity, well, hey, that was good enough in her eyes.

"Thank you, Martha. I'm _so_ pleased you could make it down here!" He was truly glad that she'd managed to make the journey down from London to offer her support tonight.

"As if I'd miss the First Night. I'd be a bad Agent if I did that," she smiled cheekily.

"Come on, Martha, be honest. You just came all this way to see me."

"I see you're still struggling to conquer that shyness, Jack?"

"Admit it, you missed me. It's the jawline, y'know. Once seen never forgotten."

"Well, there is that…" she put on an exaggeratedly thoughtful air. "And then there's business… We're reaching Box Office records here in Cardiff. It wouldn't surprise me if we get the best- selling show this year."

"I hope so, Martha," Jack responded as he stood up, wiping the last of his make-up off and disposing of the tissue paper in the basket at the side of his dressing table.

"I was chatting to Yvonne during the interval, she's pretty impressed- says she wants to talk 'business'…"

"Really?" Jack raised his eyebrows excitedly.

"One of next year's Pantos, and she's talking about another couple of shows, too. Like everyone else it seems she thinks that Torchwood's going to be a hit, and I have to agree with her."

The actor looked even more excited.

"And talking about business, what say I go downstairs and do some more schmoozing, while you get a shower and I'll see you at the party?"

"It's a plan." Jack pecked her on the cheek.

xxx

The lights in the Anthony Hopkins suite were dimmed to a subdued level. The room was packed with virtually every worker associated with the production of Aladdin; actors and actresses, all of the groups of dancers, Musos, technicians, front of house staff, back office personnel, even the cleaners for the theatre. Tables were dotted around; at one end of the large room, a dance floor had been cleared and a DJ's equipment had been set up. At the other end, the screens which had hidden a small bar area during the cast's rehearsals had been removed, and now a fully stocked and bar, packed with guests eager to take advantage of the first hours' complimentary drinks. A covered table to one side was undoubtedly home to a small buffet.

It had taken Jack a rushed thirty minutes to clean off his stage make-up, shower, dress and make his way downstairs from his dressing room to the party. His efforts to get to the bar were hampered by his fellow actors' congratulations- each of which had to be responded to with an equally effusive compliment to stroke the other's ego.

"Jack, _darling_! You were absolutely _wonderful_!"

Jack found himself accosted by Melvyn LaRue, a well-known Pantomime Dame and female impersonator and a stalwart of the Entertainment circuit. Dressed in dark slacks, and without his Dame's make-up, wig and dress, it was still impossible for even an outsider to think he was playing anyone other than Widow Twankey.

"Thank you… So were you, Melvyn. The laundry routine had me in stitches!"

Melvyn grinned and took a step forward reaching out to squeeze Jack's upper arm. Standing far too close for Jack's comfort, he continued to gush about the show.

Five minutes later, looking over Melvyn's shoulder, he was relieved to see Yvonne Hartman, the Managing Director of the Production Company, immaculately dressed, as ever, this time in fitted cocktail dress in the deepest of reds and talking to Martha. She always tried to make a point of at least attending each of her show's First Night performance, although wasn't always possible at Christmas time, with Hartman Productions putting on several shows across Britain at more or less the same time. She finished talking to the Theatrical Agent and a moment later, she caught Jack's eye, smiled and held up two glasses of white wine as she weaved through the guests towards him. It appeared that rescue could be on its way.

Jack looked back at the 'Dame', who was still talking, although Jack hadn't been listening for the last minute or so. It was quite a compliment for Yvonne to have turned up when he knew that the Glasgow and Birmingham shows were opening on the same night.

"… of course, that was before all of this Health and Safety rubbish. You could throw anything at the kids on your first entrance… sweets, toys… shoot at them with water pistols. Nowadays you could apparently have their eyes out…"

Jack was nodding at the comment when Yvonne reached them and passed him one of the glasses of wine. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry, Melvyn. I could only carry two glasses and I hadn't spotted you over here. You were _brilliant_, dear. Best Dame in the business."

"Why, thank you Yvonne…"

"I hope I can count on you next year?" she asked sipping at her glass.

"Of course, it would be an _honour_," he preened. " I…"

Yvonne didn't let him finish. "Excellent, excellent. By the way, Adam was looking for you, Melvyn. Something about tightening up the quick change for the 'Ghost gag'." She waved towards the other side of the room.

If Melvyn was put out by her dismissive behavior, he didn't show it. "It's all work, work, work," he said before cheerfully turning to walk away. "I'll catch up with you later, Yvonne."

"Not if I see you first," she said under her breath when she was sure that he was out of earshot, and Jack had the feeling that Adam hadn't been looking for Melvyn at all. "Ah, the perils of being a Producer!" she grinned, before looking more serious and reaching out to steer Jack a little away from the crowded area near to the bar. "_Anyway, _Jack. Your Act I finale was a tour de force."

"Thanks, Yvonne. I'm really pleased that you enjoyed it."

"Me and the rest of the audience, judging by that round of applause. It was almost a standing ovation. I've rarely seen an audience that uninterested in the interval snacks." Jack smiled at her words as she took another draught from her glass. "I was also looking at the latest figures down at the Box Office. Apart from a few of the shows after New Year, we're sold out. Seems that those appearances in Doctor Who and on Saturday TV are really drawing the crowds in…"

The actor laughed and swallowed a mouthful of wine. "I gotta admit that the 'phone's been pretty busy recently," he conceded.

"Well, about that… I had a quick chat with Martha earlier. I've got a few short tours coming up- a bit of song and dance from the musicals. Ruthie Henderson's signed up, and if your diary's free I'd love it if you'd come on board…"

Jack let out a low whistle. He'd known Ruthie Henderson for years, they had even worked together before she'd had a number of best-selling CDs and had become one of the best known stars of the West End. If she was in on it, he'd _make _room in his diary. "You can count me in if I'm free, Yvonne. I'll check it with Martha."

Yvonne took a few minutes to roughly outline the dates and venues for the shows, and Jack continued to try to show just how interested he was in her proposition.

They were eventually interrupted by the arrival of Martha, who had been trying to escape the attentions of an inebriated Vusi N'komo, who was playing a very acrobatic Genie of The Lamp, for what seemed like the last half hour.

"Oh my God, I thought I'd never get away!" Martha cried, exhausted. "Seems Vusi's looking for an Agent… and someone for a bit of… '_company'"_.

"Oh, _dear_…"

"It's OK, Yvonne… I told him I was getting married next month… and that I was a strict Anglican."

Yvonne laughed. "I was just talking about you," she continued, conspiratorially. "And I've been trying to talk him into those shows we were discussing earlier… Anyway, I'll leave you two to have a chat. I'll be in touch, yeah, Martha?"

"No problem, Yvonne. Just give me a call," Martha responded to a retreating back. "So, then, Jack, do you want to hear the offer?"

xxx

Over at the DJ's sound desk, Ianto and his fellow Technicians were helping out Rob, who had been 'volunteered' to provide the evening's music and sound. In what would be considered inappropriate clothing for a twelve year old when he was a kid, a group of the Junior dancers congregated near the dance floor, rehearsing a small dance routine. Ianto's eyes strayed from the spectacle, and he spotted Jack at the other side of the room. He was laughing and talking with a slim, dark skinned woman dressed in a fashionably tailored, but tasteful silvery-grey dress, hair piled on top of her head in a large 'bun'. Well, he thought it was a 'bun'; perhaps he should read more of Lisa's fashion magazines.

She was strikingly beautiful. In fact, she reminded him of Lisa. As she laughed, though, he realised that he rarely saw Lisa that happy and carefree these days; the two of them hardly ever seemed to have time to go out by themselves. Work could be all consuming, but even when they both had the evening off, Lisa often chose to see her friends from work instead of spend a night out- or in- with him. Ianto knew that she'd never wanted to come to Cardiff, and sometimes he was sure that she resented missing out on the life she led in London. He had often wondered if they had made the right decision in coming back to his Homeland, but he loved his job at The Grand and Lisa had made friends and settled at The Arts' Theatre. Still, there was no denying that they weren't the contented couple he had always thought they were a few years ago; they had settled into a routine and he sometimes felt that they were more like flat mates than lovers.

He put these thoughts to the back of his mind, and instead speculated on who the woman could be. Jack hadn't mentioned a girlfriend, but the Party was open to partners, but it was rare that anyone took up the invitation, often because, if they did have partners or spouses, those partners and spouses were either working away, too, or back at home.

The woman laughed again and Ianto felt a pang of jealousy course through him, presumably due to there being so little laughter in his own relationship at the moment, he thought. That and the woman was stunning.

xxx

**To Be Continued…**

**Notes: **

Muso- a musician. At panto, often part of a two piece band: Keyboards (often inc. prerecorded sound effects, or backing tracks- if the Soundie trusts them and lets them, that is!) & a Drummer/percussionist (again, including off the cuff sound effects i.e. cymbal crash or drum beat as a comedy fall/incident takes place).

'Ghost Gag'- Panto gag which involves several of the cast looking for a ghost/monster/etc. whilst asking the audience if they have seen said ghost/monster. Correct audience response: "It's/he's behind you!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

**A/N: **Sorry! I meant to post this much earlier, but life's got in the way again! However, I will be posting another two chapters in quick succession this week, so I hope I'm forgiven… And thank you to anyone who's been reading and reviewing (ericasofia, ciocia, workingsomecoffeemagic…)- I've sort of lost track with where I'm up to replying. And you will be rewarded with a Jack and Ianto moment in a chapter or so…

**Chapter 7**

xxx

Ianto sat at the table alone. With the party in full swing, he had just returned from a trip outside for a cigarette, where he contemplated at least cutting down on his smoking at New Year, if not giving up completely, to find that the rest of his Team had dispersed: Toshiko was with Rob, poring over the Sound System, while Owen was engaged in what appeared to be chatting up a giggling Rose Tyler at one side of the bar. Gwen was enthusiastically strutting her stuff on the dance floor after spending a fruitless twenty minutes trying to get Jack Harkness to accompany her. It was probably a good thing, Ianto decided, thinking of her long-suffering, and likeable, boyfriend, Rhys, that she hadn't brought him along. Those tight fitting black pants and that low-cut T-shirt, coupled with some rather provocative moves, would surely not have been approved of by the other Welshman. Most of the younger Crew members were either dancing or were clustered around the bar with the Dancers and Turns. In a far corner, Archie, who they'd all seen little of in the last seven days, was all but slumped at a table in the far corner of the room corner, glass of Talisker, poured from his very own hipflask, permanently in his right hand, expounding about anything to anyone who would listen.

xxx

With Martha occupied yet again with what appeared to be a rather deep conversation with Yvonne, Jack drifted over to Ianto as inconspicuously as he could, sipping at a Scotch and water.

"How's it going?" he said as he stilled at the table, and then sat down.

"OK, nothing fell over and nothing exploded that shouldn't. And it looks like he's happy," Ianto nodded over at the Cardiff Times' Theatre Reviewer, Bilis Manger who was obsequiously schmoozing his way around the room. Jack had had the dubious pleasure of a ten minute informal interview with the man earlier on in the evening and had found him more than a little bit 'creepy'; he'd even been thankful when Melvyn had muscled in on the proceedings- if Melvyn did, indeed, 'muscle in' on anything- and hurriedly left the Dame and the critic to it. "And your finale is apparently the 'defining moment' of the show, according to him."

Smiling, Jack asked, "Mind if I join you? I've been abandoned." He gestured over at Martha.

"Ah, never bring the girlfriend along… It's a sure fire bet that someone will try to pick her- or you- up."

Jack broke into the widest grin that Ianto had ever seen, and then started to, well, guffaw. "Martha's my _Agent, _not my girlfriend!"

Ianto raised an eyebrow in disbelief, tempered by relief. He accounted for the last emotion by telling himself that it was solely due to the knowledge that 'Martha' was a free agent unless she had a significant other at home. Not as if he would act on that knowledge, if it were true; he had Lisa, and he was determined to make sure that whatever problems the two of them had, he was going to try to make the relationship work just as soon as they could make more time for each other.

"Oh…"

"Although she is one of my best friends," Jack managed to say after his amusement died down.

"Sorry, you seemed so at ease together…" Ianto apologised.

"No problem! I signed up with her when she was just setting up- we've both worked together through the hard times. She's a great girl, but she's not my type… that and the fact that her fiancé wouldn't be too impressed!"

Ianto felt less embarrassed by his faux pas as Jack laughed again. "Mmm, I don't suppose I can see him being very understanding."

"Tom spends a lot of time working abroad with the UN. He's a Doctor. He really _wouldn't_ take kindly to me taking _advantage_ of his absences. And anyway… I'm kinda too busy working right now for relationships and romantic entanglements."

"She reminds me very much of Lisa… "

There was a pause in their conversation. Whenever Jack had looked around the room earlier, Ianto was always in the company of one of his colleagues, or was talking to one of the actors or actresses. He hadn't seen anyone who looked like they could be Lisa.

"You didn't bring Lisa along?" he said as nonchalantly as he could.

"She's out at her own work's party at the Arts Theatre."

"Ah… it's a hectic time of the year for First Night parties and Christmas dos. "

"It's _always_ a hectic time of year at Cardiff Arts Theatre," Ianto replied pointedly.

He didn't elaborate, and Jack detected an unwillingness on Ianto's part to talk much more on the subject; he quickly tried to change the subject, and launched into the tale (he seemed to have a never-ending array of them) of the Christmas cast and crew meal out on one of his early Pantos. The elderly actor playing his aged father in Jack and The Beanstalk had been a respected character actor, appearing in British films of the 1950s onwards, even taking minor roles in a few Hollywood movies. Unhappily, the years hadn't been that good to him; he'd drifted into less serious stage work and developed a more than passing liking for the odd fortifying tot of gin, which, over the years, had turned into more than the odd one. At a crew and cast meal at the poshest Italian restaurant in the town they were playing, said actor had finally had one too many and was soon wandering from table to table of unconnected patrons, happily propositioning any female diner he came across. A slight altercation with one of the male companions had him leaving the main dining room in a theatrical huff. Moments later and he'd made his way in to the foyer, resplendent with an elaborate reproduction Rococo stone fountain right in the centre. As he blundered into a fiberglass reproduction of the leaning tower of Pisa, surrounded be a display of potted palms, he tripped, landing in the small pool filled with Koi carp and goldfish. The Crew had had to drag him out, as he started to quote The Tempest. They hadn't returned to the restaurant for the rest of the run.

The story had shaken the other man from his slightly gloomy mood, and it transpired that Ianto had his own fair share of humorous theatrical anecdotes, and they were soon swapping stories.

xxx

Martha finally disentangled herself from a painfully boring half hour of discussion with Angharad Davies, who was keen to break into the West End. Sadly, although the actress certainly had enough talent to break out of the local Soap and into better things on national TV, she had neither the acting skills or voice to make it in musical theatre- at least not without a great deal of coaching and training. Being tactful about this fact had been tricky; Angharad was young, eager and perhaps in denial about her own talents.

The Agent quickly checked the room, looking for Jack- she was only in Cardiff for this one night, solely to see the show and the man himself. She also hoped to avoid another ambush by an acting hopeful. She eventually located him sitting with a dark haired young man, and could not stop herself from grinning at the way he was laughing at something the younger man said.

xxx

"So, Jack…Are you going to introduce me?" Martha asked.

Jack was startled from his conversation; neither man had seen her approach.

"Martha! Finally got away did you?"

"Eventually… I seem to have been ambushed by virtually everyone on this show! I'm not sure I can take much more."

"You're obviously a woman in demand… Oh, yeah, this is Ianto Jones. He's our Lighting Engineer, and possibly the most normal person working on this show." The actor motioned towards the Welshman before turning to his Agent. "Ianto Jones, meet Martha Jones, my Agent. No relation, I presume?"

"Not that I know of," she smiled and held out her hand. Ianto shook it, rising from his seat and leaning over. It didn't escape her that Jack was looking on with a possessive gleam in his eyes. In all the years that she had known him, Jack had been discrete about his personal life, but she knew he had always had a flexible approach to his romantic interests.

"Nice to meet you." Ianto sat back down as he released her hand but continued to stare at her.

"And you, Ianto."

Jack interrupted their exchange. "Hey, you two- I'm still here!"

"Sorry for staring, Martha. You remind me very much of my girlfriend, Lisa."

"Ah, you've got good taste!" she winked making it obvious that she wasn't being in the least bit serious. That last piece of information was interesting, too- it seemed to come as no surprise or disappointment to Jack, and she felt rather guilty for previously wondering if he was attempting to chat Ianto up.

"I certainly do," he laughed. "Did you enjoy the show, then?"

"It's one of the better Pantos that I've seen. I confess that I'm not a big fan myself, but they're great for publicity. And I couldn't not turn up to see Jack's first night, could I?"

Martha was good company, and it seemed a pity to Ianto that she was only in Cardiff for one night- she would be flying back to London the next afternoon.

xxx

It was the early hours of the morning when the party finally died down, and Ianto bade a genuine and heartfelt farewell to Martha, and a correspondingly heartfelt goodnight to Jack.

As he entered the dark sitting room of his flat, he saw Lisa's coat thrown untidily over the back of the sofa; the rest of the apartment was equally dark apart from a soft glow emanating from the bedroom. As he poked his head around the door of their room, he saw Lisa in , returned from her own night out, fast asleep in bed and seemingly worse for wear, the bedside lamp illuminating her.

xxx

**To Be Continued…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

**A/N: **Apologies for this being posted later than I wanted- yet again. BUT there will be another chapter within days… and I'm hoping it's a bit of a reward for everybody's patience!

**Chapter 8**

xxx

Weeks went by like days, and the cast and crew of Aladdin soon found themselves in the final week of the production with few mishaps or problems along the way, testament to the ultimate professionalism of most of those involved. There had been a couple of near disastrous scene changes where the set threatened to lurch forward through the front cloth, and a few faulty mics for Tosh, but they'd all worked together to recover the situations, and the audience had been none the wiser, and the Box Office sales had reached an all time record high throughout the run.

Adam had turned out to be a great Stage Manager for Hartman; he had managed to keep the performers in check, much to the Cardiff crew's surprise- they had never expected one so young to be capable of controlling so many egos and subtly averting the usual backstage bickering. He had also turned out to have a wicked sense of humour and was happy for all involved to indulge in backstage gags and in-jokes as long as they weren't detrimental to the punters' enjoyment.

Owen had failed in his season-long quest to 'pull' Rose Tyler, but a couple of the stage crew had been very successful in their attempts to woo several of the dancing girls- and in Chris' case one of the male dancers. Rob, Toshiko's on stage helper, had fallen hard for one of the older twirlies, Leanne, who was only a couple of years his junior, and was determined to see her long after the production ended. Owen's derisive comments about Panto and showtime romances never lasting did little to diminish the soppy and starry-eyed look that Rob exhibited every time her name was mentioned, or whenever she was nearby.

Tosh and Ianto had quietly laboured on, although the Welshman had been more subdued than in previous years when he'd happily joined in the production company's Christmas and New Year celebrations and regularly gone out clubbing with the crew and cast. He'd still joined in, of course, but not with his usual enthusiasm; his relationship with Lisa was often at the forefront of his mind. The fact that Lisa had the Christmas weekend off work and had gone home to visit her parents had done little to alleviate his worries, and explaining her absence from the Jones family's celebrations had been far from easy. His sister, Rhiannon, had just nodded knowingly as Ianto made his excuses- Rhiannon had never been that friendly with Lisa, deciding that she was far too 'stuck-up' and 'snooty' when it became clear that the move back to Wales, of all places, had most definitely not been her idea. But he still continued to tell himself that everything was normal for such a busy time of year for them both- they would fix everything when the Festive season was over.

Away from home, Ianto had repeatedly found himself in the company of Jack Harkness. And it had been far from a hardship. Jack was an amusing companion during work outings and the two men had even been known to pop out between shows for a quick pub snack when, for each of them, the company of the others had turned out to be too 'full-on'. The actor almost always managed to raise Ianto's spirits with his outrageous and sometimes risqué tales, and turned out to be a good listener on the very few occasions that Ianto's melancholic mood couldn't be lifted. These rare moods were always connected to his relationship with Lisa, and Jack offered his best advice: as soon as Ianto could, he should whisk Lisa away for a romantic weekend or holiday, or failing that an intimate meal out. Whatever the option, he urged Ianto not to let his 'real' life drift- he himself had done that often enough, and had lived to regret not making the effort. In spite of Jack's comments, the Welshman wasn't looking forward to the end of the run. Not only was he filled with a sense of dread at having to confront his home life issues, but he was going to miss the exuberant entertainer who he had come to regard as a good friend and confidante.

xxx

**To Be Continued…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VERY MINOR DRUG USE, WHICH I HOPE DOES NOT SPOIL ANYONE'S ENJOYMENT OF THE STORY. Not sure what rating that makes it- It was M anyway?

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

**A/N: **As mentioned (see above) in the Ratings, this chapter contains very minor drug usage, but I'm hoping that it's sort of in character. I truly hope it doesn't put anyone off the characters or story- it's not meant to alienate readers.

**Chapter 9**

xxx

"So… who's going to the party at Angharad's place?" Owen's tinny voice sounded through the talkback system. It was the penultimate day of the show and despite tomorrow's Last Night Party Angharad had planned a more informal get-together. Throughout the run there had been a number of house parties at the turns' digs or techies' homes; the Welsh Soap star was a Cardiff native, and her success in her home country had resulted, by all accounts, in a comfortable house on the outskirts of the capital.

"I'm up for it," said Chris from his position at the follow spot.

"Straight after the show?" Ianto didn't really see the point of getting in an early night. It was a Friday and, over breakfast that morning, Lisa had told him that the lead in her production was having a similar 'Penultimate Night Party' that she and the rest of the staff at the Art's Theatre would be attending. Besides, he was secretly eager to see just exactly what kind of house Welsh Soap superstardom bought.

"Yeah, but a few of the cast and crew are meeting up at the White Lion for a pint before getting a taxi up there. Me and Rob are going to Morrisons to get some drinks to take if you want to come?"

"Count me in," Chris said.

"Me too," Ianto added.

"See you at five, back stage… wait a minute… Standby LXQ 68. Stage crew- stand by for our so called bloody magic grotto." The 'cave scene' wasn't the Stage Manager's favourite moment; setting the numerous chests of 'gold' and jewels had been a constant headache for the stage crew all run.

"Standing by," several voices chorused through the headsets as they waited for their cues. Seconds later the blackout came, accompanied by the hushed sounds of stage crew moving the various props into position.

"Go. And Standby LXQ 67, Ianto."

For the next couple of seconds all that Ianto could hear was Owen's muffled voice, hand over his cans' mic as he shouted to the stage crew to get off 'the bloody stage' before the cloth went up.

"Right, clear… Go LXQ 67…"

Everyone settled into the next scene.

"Anyway, what was I saying?" Owen said as he settled back down.

"You're getting some beers in at Morissons," Chris, over on the lime, responded.

Yeah right…" Ianto's eyes were fixed on the stage, watching nothing in particular, as he listened to Owen's plans to get to the supermarket with time left over for a swift half before the evening's Act One Beginners call. He looked on as Jack tried to stifle a laugh as he gazed in awe at the treasure chest overflowing with gold and jewels. Jack was having difficulty getting out his next line. "What the hell's going on there?" he interrupted.

"Jesus, Bloody Rob's hidden in the treasure chest…" Owen grumbled as he looked onto the stage

Throughout the run, the crew had been upping the ante as they tried on stage gag after stage gag. Yesterday there had been the stage weights hidden in the bag of swag which had caused Jack to struggle to lift the sack. All run, Rob had been desperate to conceal himself in the trunk of jewels, and it seemed that he had finally got his chance and was cheerfully waving the odd prop at the lead actor while making inappropriate gestures unseen by the audience. However pissed off Owen seemed, Ianto could hear the suppressed amusement in his voice.

xxx

Ianto was on his third large glass of punch- and that didn't count the pint of bitter at the pub before he, Owen, Tosh and Chris caught one of the fleet of taxis to Angharad's party, or the can of Brains as soon as he got there. The Welsh actress' home was much as he expected it to be: a detached 1930s house, not too large or ostentatious and surrounded with simply landscaped gardens, which looked down on the twinkling lights of the city and the sea beyond. Inside it was tastefully furnished in the main, with three reception rooms and a large kitchen whose worktops were laden with ready-made snacks and nibbles, and a huge, glass bowl containing the aforementioned punch which seemed to be comprised of whatever spirits Angharad had found in her drinks cabinet, some sparkling white wine and a mere half can of lemonade.

The Welshman was starting to feel slightly woozy as he chatted to a tipsy Toshiko in the smaller and quieter of the two sitting rooms.

"Well, Owen had better get a move on with Rose. He's basically got about a day and a half before the cast leaves," she said, and looked through double doors into the main room where the majority of the guests were mingling and a small group, including Jack and the hostess were singing along to a small karaoke machine plugged into a large wall mounted plasma TV and surround sound speakers.

"I wish we'd run a book on it. I would have been willing to bet that he had no chance from day one," Ianto stated somewhat blearily.

"In that case, you would have been sharing your spoils with me," the Sound Tech grinned as Ianto downed the last of the lethal drink. "You know, I think I'm going to miss this lot. They're not bad for turns."

"I know what you mean…" Ianto was going to miss them, too, especially Jack, but was looking forward to a return to some kind of normality. "Anyway, I wouldn't worry… They'll probably all be back next Christmas. One thing about turns, is they always turn up again."

Toshiko groaned. "Was that meant to be a joke, Ianto? If so, it was really, _really_ bad…"

He grinned. "Sorry. I think I should slow down on the drinks. Anyway, I'm off for a pee," he said unceremoniously and got up and sought out the downstairs loo.

xxx

When the Welshman returned to the lounge, Tosh had gone. He easily spotted her in the main sitting room, no doubt dragged there by one of the other guests, wincing at Chris' efforts at singing along to 'Ruby' on the karaoke machine. The house was hot with the central heating on full and the punch had taken its toll. Ianto felt his cheeks burning- it was time for some fresh air. He went into the kitchen to make his way through to the patio at the back of the house. Quickly filling a glass with water as he passed the sink, he noticed Rob just outside the backdoor wreathed in a combination of smoke and his own breath condensed in the crispy, clear night air. As he stepped out into the cold he sniffed at the instantly recognisable sickly sweet smoke and coughed.

"Jesus, Ianto!" Rob exclaimed as he turned around. "Do you always have to creep up on people like that?"

"Sorry! I needed a break from the karaoke." He dug into his pocket and produced a packet of cigarettes.

Rob eyed the packet. "Here mate, have some of this instead. You look like you need to relax," he said handing Ianto the remains of the joint that he'd been smoking. "I was just about to go inside and find Leanne anyway. Don't wanting her getting bored without me, eh?"

"Cheers, Rob." Ianto didn't usually indulge in cannabis, or any other drugs, these days but he reasoned it had been a pretty tough few weeks. Half a joint couldn't do much harm. As Rob went inside, Ianto took a deep drag and strolled towards a small bench which overlooked the bay and Cardiff. It was a chilly, cloudless night and Ianto found himself just enjoying looking at the stars which seemed to sparkle and flicker in the dark sky.

xxx

Jack was getting bored of his fellow actors' performances as they all vied for supremacy over the karaoke machine. It was time for a break, and he wandered into the kitchen and helped himself to another glassful of punch. The back door was open and, although it was cold, he stepped out. He sipped at the glass and enjoyed the view, until a small plume of smoke drew his attention to a bench behind a shrub, and just out of sight from the house. He walked towards the bench, and further inspection showed it to be occupied by none other than Ianto Jones.

"So, this is where you're hiding yourself!" he said announcing himself.

The younger man jumped slightly as he was stubbing out the now finished spliff under his heel, but smiled as he realised that the voice belonged to Jack. "I wouldn't exactly call it hiding away. I just felt like a bit of peace and quiet."

"Me too." Jack sat down. "I hear enough of this lot singing at work."

"You're not the only one. I don't know how Toshiko is coping in there- after all she has to listen to this more than the rest of us."

"She must be a glutton for punishment…"

"I'm beginning to wonder…"

Talk quickly turned to the Panto- what had gone wrong, what could be improved- and Jack's new venture with the BBC, and his hopes that it could be just the breakthrough that he needed after all these years of hard slogging at his craft.

Eventually Ianto looked back towards the bay, and Jack found himself admiring the way that the moonlight emphasized the man's high cheekbones and that button nose he'd found so striking when they had first met. He'd obviously had a little too much to drink and looked away before the temptation to act on his attraction to him became unstoppable.

"Anyhow, how about you? You could always get back to the West End. You're too skilled to be working here at your age," Jack quickly changed the subject.

"Been there, tried that. I'm pretty sure that Lisa would like to go back, but we've got to sort things out before either of us makes a decision like that…"

"You'll sort it out. You just need a bit of time together."

Ianto had a sudden moment of clarity. "I hope so, but I'm not sure, Jack. I'm starting to wonder if we _can _sort things out…" Lisa's visit to her parents at Christmas had been somewhat of a turning point and it still niggled, but since then he'd started to ask himself if the whole thing was worth the fight. "If I we _ought _to work things out…"

"Hey, don't be hasty, Ianto. You've got to give it one last chance."

"Maybe, maybe… but… well, this is supposed to be a party, not a counselling session! You should be telling me all about Rob hiding in the chest earlier…"

Accepting Ianto's need to change the direction that the conversation was going in, Jack laughed. "I was _not _expecting _that. _It's a good job that we're at the end of the run. At least the punters are expecting some gags, so they're enjoying it. Actually, I can't believe it took the crew so long before they tried the stage weight in the sack gag."

Ianto laughed. Most of the casual crew was just out of college. "You're right… but I blame it on the younger generation. They get far too serious about theatre and entertainment!"

"Bloody Hell, Ianto… when _you_ start calling the crew _the younger generation, _I know _I'm_ over the hill. For God's sake… how old _are_ you?"

"Twenty seven. And, anyway, you're hardly 'over the hill'…"

"See, I've got ten years on you. It's make or break time for me this year; I don't want to be hitting forty without some kind of breakthrough."

Ianto snorted out a laugh. "Come off it! You've made it in the West End and you're always popping up on TV these days, and there's Doctor Who." He paused for a moment and looked over at the other man. "And I have to say that you're wearing well for your late thirties."

"Ah, it's the jaw line and good genes, you know." Jack raised an eyebrow and gave his best cheesy showman's grin. "I reckon I've got five years before it all goes downhill. So me and Martha are hoping for a hit with Torchwood."

"When did you say it was scheduled for?"

"The BBC's got it down for late February on BBC3, moving to some repeats on BBC2 if everything goes well."

"I'll give it a go- and you can bet Tosh will."

"Ah, I've already got fans!" Jack said with a theatrical flourish of his hands.

"I wouldn't go that far!"

There was a break in the conversation as the Welshman looked out across the garden and out to sea. "Angharad's got a great spot here. It's the kind of place I could only dream about owning…"

"Me too, Ianto." Jack had made his way through the last of his drink and set the glass down next to the bench. He could only agree, as he admired the house's view. He glanced to his right, and he was rewarded with another view- of Ianto's profile as he gazed down at the Bay, the moon's light reflecting off the dark water.

It was as if Ianto knew that he was being watched, and he turned to look at Jack, the sea forgotten.

What came next seemed to happen in a flash, with neither of them sure- when they looked back on it- who had started it all. First, their lips met, tentatively, hesitantly; next, arms wrapped around one another and kissed almost hungrily, as one of Jack's hands moved to thread through Ianto's short hair. The kiss was everything- and more- that Jack had fantasised about in those lonely moments when he struggled with his resolve to resist his attraction to the young Welshman. From the way that he clutched at him, pulling him closer, he was sure that Ianto felt the same. After what seemed like an age, Jack drew away for a second and took in the beautiful sight of the other man, heavy lidded eyes now dark with what he hoped was the same amount of passion that he himself felt. He leaned in once more and placed a gentle peck to the button nose that he'd always admired so much. Ianto let out a barely audible soft moan and he moved his head lower to scatter similar tender kisses along Ianto's jaw.

For a moment, all was perfection… until Jack became of Ianto's arms dropping away. An instant later and the actor was disappointed to be pushed away.

"Shit!" Ianto ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry… Look, Jack, I'm not gay… I… well, I'm wasted… I'm sorry…" he repeated.

Suddenly the situation became clear to Jack, and all at once he felt his disappointment turn to horror. He'd taken complete advantage of the state of the man sat next to him. "I'm the one who should be sorry… I blame it on the punch." He paused, unsure of what to say or how to explain himself- and his actions. "I'm not _actually_ gay, either…" he trailed off.

Ianto stood up. "I ought to go back inside… I… I'm really, really sorry… I've ruined everything." He made towards the kitchen door, giving a final fleeting look back at the bench. "I'm so, _so_ sorry."

Jack didn't even have time to try and reassure the other man that none of what had happened was his fault at all. Ianto was gone. He sat there for at least five minutes, possibly ten or longer, he couldn't be sure, all he knew was that he'd fucked up royally. He might be leaving in a few days but it had never been his intention to upset the Lighting Engineer, much less to behave like a predator towards someone he regarded as a friend that he would have liked to keep in touch with.

When he eventually returned to the party, Ianto was nowhere to be seen.

xxx

**To Be Continued…**

**Notes/glossary:**

Lime- follow spot


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Mentions of sexual behaviour and drug use- a PG I would have thought?

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

**A/N: **A short chapter here- sorry for the delay in posting, but I hope to have another for the weekend.

**Chapter 10**

As he left the party, Ianto had sought Toshiko out, and, using the excuse that the drink had got the better of him, said his goodnights and made a hasty exit. As if he wouldn't have enough difficulty trying to forget the _incident _with Jack, the quarter of an hour taxi ride home gave him yet more time to dwell on what had happened. At least he was sure that Jack was a good enough friend not to gossip on stage about both their lapses in common sense; tomorrow could well have been even more mortifyingly embarrassing if the actor had been the type to boast, or take the mickey, even though all they'd done was kiss.

There was little to distract him from his thoughts when he arrived home- yet again, Lisa was already sound asleep and there would be no small talk along the lines of "how was your evening, Lisa?", although he found himself feeling grateful for that, as he didn't even want to contemplate what his own response would have been to the same question. He grabbed a glass and the just more than half full bottle of white wine from the 'fridge, a blanket and pillow from the cupboard in the hall, and he slumped onto the sofa, switching the TV onto low. He knew that he had a possibly sleepless night ahead of him, and the last thing he wanted to do was wake his girlfriend.

He poured a glass of wine and gulped at it, finishing it in three, quick mouthfuls. He filled another glassful and shook his head. He wasn't even gay, so why on Earth had he kissed Jack? It was that bloody punch, and the dope hadn't helped- that was it. There was no denying that Jack was good looking- and, more irritatingly, oozed charm and charisma- but he wasn't attracted to men. Yes, there'd been that time in his first Year at University when things had got out of hand between him and Paul Campbell, one of the guys he shared a house with. They'd been out to a club and, several drinks and an 'E' each later they'd stumbled back home to an empty house. A couple of beers later and they were more or less making out on the settee; a not very erotic session of snogging had led to mutual _fumbling_ that neither young man had really talked about after the event. It had all been very clinical to an extent, and there'd been no question about _fancying_ each other. Both of them had needed some kind of release at the time- that and the fact that they were both pretty much off their heads. But there'd never been anything _more_- before or since- with Paul or any other male, and the two young men hadn't even discussed the encounter again; Ianto had met Lisa soon after and memories of that night had rarely surfaced, however there was a clear correlation in his mind. Add alcohol and drugs into the equation and mix in some sexual frustration (Ianto found it hard to remember the last time that he and Lisa had made love), and it clearly equalled some highly inappropriate behaviour on his part. He finished the last of the Soave and settled down against the pillow and cushions and draped the blanket around himself. There was only one way forward in all of this. Apologise profusely again to Jack, and try to get through the Last Night Party without somehow further making the state of affairs any worse.

**To Be Continued…**


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M for later adult content.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers : **Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I'm just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It's an AU story, so I'm pretty sure that it shouldn't spoil anyone's enjoyment of Torchwood itself.

**Summary: **Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.

**A/N: Trust me! Please!**

**Chapter 11**

xxx

Avoiding Jack Harkness the next day had been easy. With all the hustle and bustle of the final two shows, keeping away from him hadn't been that difficult at all. The problem was the Last Night Party. There would be no evading the actor.

As the last show dragged on beyond its usual running time with back stage gags and finale 'thanks' to the audience and all involved in the production, Ianto found himself for once thanking the crew and cast for the hold-ups. Anything that delayed the end of the Panto, and thus the start of the party and the inevitable meeting with Jack, was just fine with him - a restless night had only increased his embarrassment at his actions the previous night.

xxx

Entering the Anthony Hopkins Suite, which was, rather unimaginatively, the venue for the last night party, as it was for the First Night Party, Ianto's heart immediately fell. Amongst the other guests, there was Jack, holding court with several of the other turns.

Quickly turning his attention back to his companion, Owen, as they walked to the bar, Ianto asked, "A beer then?" He received an enthusiastic nod in response as they made their way over to order what would be their first free drink from the bar.

xxx

Eyes straying away from his fellow members of Hartman productions, Jack saw Ianto and Owen enter the room. Ianto wore tailored dark jeans and a deep purple shirt, topped off with a black waistcoat. He looked stunning, even more so when Jack remembered how perfect- for a few moments- it had felt when they had kissed. The thought was quickly dismissed; Jack had noted that Ianto appeared to be avoiding him all day, and he had to admit that he didn't blame the young man; his behaviour the night before had been unforgivable. Ianto had been vulnerable, and at a low point, and he'd exploited that. This thought had led to the actor having just as restless a night as the Technician. As sleep escaped him, he had tossed and turned, feelings of guilt- and shame that he'd let his baser instincts concerning Ianto take over- filled his head; when he finally slept, his slumber was far from calming and he had been plagued by dreams which replayed his actions. He awoke several times. Each time he found himself again drifting into unconsciousness, those visions returned, although on occasion the scenarios ended differently. In one, Ianto had returned his affections freely, only for a horrified woman, who turned out to be Lisa, to arrive as they kissed. In another, Ianto had actually violently repelled him. All of this added to his sense of unease. He knew he should probably just try to forget about the episode and leave the Technician be, but he also knew that he wouldn't be able to leave Cardiff without trying to make his peace with him.

xxx

There had been a rather more lavish buffet than that of several weeks earlier- the Management clearly felt that they needed to show their gratitude to the cast and crew for what had been one of the Theatre's most successful Christmas seasons- and an open bar for an hour. When everyone had eaten and drunk their fill there had been a prolonged speech from Adam, including thanks to everyone involved and a tongue in cheek 'awards' ceremony complete with token prizes in categories such as 'Best Technical Cock-Up', 'Best Corpsing Moment', 'Best Gag' and so on. Rob had actually won for his 'performance' inside Aladdin's cave's treasure chest, and Jack had been nominated in the run for 'Best Corpsing Moment'- he had, after all, found it difficult to get his lines out after Rob's triumphal victory, and there'd been a lengthy pause where he composed himself for his Act I closing number.

**xxx**

Ianto had spent most of the evening in the company of his colleagues, so when Jack saw him rise and head for the door, he quickly excused himself from the conversation with his fellow actors. Knowing Ianto, there were only two options: either Ianto was heading for the Gents- and he certainly wouldn't pursue him _there_ if he was trying to make a good impression – or he was heading outside for a cigarette. He decided to take the risk and follow him out of the room, planning to take his cue from the direction that Ianto's steps took.

Jack saw Ianto make his way, alone, towards the stairway which led to the back stage entrance- and outside. The young man was clearly headed out for a nicotine fix- not, perhaps, Jack's most favourite vice, but one that he realised that he just didn't care about when it was Ianto's occasional habit.

**xxx**

It was good to get away from the crowds and have some time to himself. Ianto had managed to make his getaway at a time when the few other guests who smoked were not outside, and it suited him just fine. His lack of sleep was beginning to tell, and the packed room inside had been starting to get overwhelming. He decided against lighting up; the cold night air was just what he needed to sweep the cobwebs away. He wasn't sure how long he'd been stood there when he was shaken from his reverie/thoughts by a small cough, followed by the words, spoken quietly and hesitantly, "Hey, how's it going?"

Ianto didn't even have to look to know that the speaker was Jack Harkness- the American accent told him that much. Eventually he turned, "Hi, Jack… OK. Look… I…"

He was quickly interrupted. "Don't… Ianto, I can't tell you how sorry I am about last night. I don't know what came over me… What the hell did Angharad put in that punch?" Jack gave a small, self deprecating laugh. "Believe me, I didn't mean to… to do _anything _that made you feel uncomfortable."

Ianto had laughed along with Jack at the comment about the punch- it had been truly lethal. "I know what you mean- I had a bit of a woolly head this morning…" He paused thinking through what he could say next. "It was just as much my fault… I can't believe I behaved like that. It's been a bit of a… _stressful_… time at home. I'd be grateful if you could just forget all about it. I like to think of you as a friend, just as much as a workmate- I'd hate to think that I screwed that up."

"If it's any consolation, I feel the same. Let's just say we're both to blame. You've been a good mate to me, and I guess I've been kinda lonely what with being away from home at Christmas… add in that damned punch…" he trailed off. He hoped that Ianto didn't notice the slight sad tone in his voice; whilst he sincerely regretted his actions, a tiny part of him had wished that Ianto felt the same as him. For him, the kiss had been damned near perfect, exceeding his fantasies and expectations.

"It's OK. Agreed, yeah? We were both a bit out of it, and behaved a bit… stupidly. I mean, I know the show's over but you never know where you end up in this job. I wouldn't like to think that we'd be working together again and it would be _awkward._" Ianto doubted that their paths would cross again. Although many of the same old faces turned up time after time on shows and gigs, Jack was clearly on the up. A new TV show on the back of Doctor Who, based around him as the heroic lead could hardly fail- his days of Panto and entertainment shows were surely numbered.

"Agreed." Jack nodded before giving what he hoped was a disarmingly theatrical flourish in an effort to break the tension. "My lips are sealed, and anyway, it's already forgotten about… What were you saying?"

A relieved Ianto let out a breath and laughed. "No idea! Was it something to do with the awards ceremony earlier? You did pretty well with your corpsing nomination."

"Well, I defy anyone to keep a straight face with Rob making suggestive gestures at you like that. It's bad enough when he does it from the _wings_, never mind onstage, when I wasn't expecting it! I still didn't beat Rose, though- I lost to a worthy opponent. I have to admit that that was a very _inventive _bit of porn that Owen managed to fix to the front of the monitors…"

Ianto shuddered. "Luckily I didn't see it…please tell me that one of the protagonists wasn't _Owen_… That might give me the type of nightmares I _really_ don't need."

"Rest assured- there was no Owen. There's no need to lose sleep!"

"Thank God for that…"

With a nod, Jack joined him in his relief. "You going back inside?" he asked, starting to feel the first drops of an icy cold drizzle.

"It's a bit wet, isn't it?" Ianto suddenly pushed himself away from the wall and shivered as he realised just how chilly the night was.

xxx

The rest of the evening went well. Ianto might not feel totally at ease, but his conversation with Jack had gone far in soothing his worries. The entertainer was just as embarrassed as he was by last night- and just as eager to forget about it and put it well behind him. He weaved between the tables and chairs and back to his seat after leaving Jack to be mobbed by an entire troupe of dancers, some of them tearful at leaving the show, but each of them impatient to have their programme signed by everyone involved in the production. He dropped into the seat next to Tosh, who was absentmindedly watching Jack Harkness trying to control the surrounding group.

"Well, another year over… a new one just begun," she smirked.

"After all those bloody weeks of those Christmas CDs for House music, I really don't need you quoting Slade at me." He shook his head and affected a horrified look. "Really, _darling_, that was truly _dreadful_."

"'Welcome to the magic of _my_ world'," she laughed, quoting Vusi's line as the Genie of the Lamp. "I've had to sit there playing that for six weeks- _every_ show. How do you think _I_ feel?"

"Fair enough," he admitted. "But are you actually trying to push me over the edge? And I just know that it's going to be the same CD next year… don't you just love Christmas?"

"You know the answer to that!" Christmas was a magical time of year if you weren't immersed in it for weeks on end as they were. "You've got to feel a bit sorry though- you get to know people so… well, so quickly… and then they're gone. It's not like a one nighter, or a week's run."

"Well, yeah, but I'm going to be pretty happy to see the back of it all- get some sleep and a bit of a rest. I'm thinking of booking a week away with Lisa- we both need some time to relax."

"That's a good idea- to tell you the truth, I think we all deserve it. Thinking about anywhere in particular?"

"Not really…" he replied. "I'd be happy with anywhere, even Barry Island, so long as we're getting away from Cardiff and work, but I know Lisa would like something a bit more exotic, warmer. I've seen a couple of last minute cheap deals to Tunisia…"

"Oh, nice…" Tosh said with a hint of jealousy in her voice. She'd like some time away herself, but she wasn't seeing anyone at the moment, and holidays were always more enjoyable with a partner or friends. "I hope you two work it all out…"

"Well!" Owen sat down heavily next to Ianto, inadvertently slamming his glass onto the table. "What, six weeks? And I've still got no further with Rose."

"I guess you win some, you lose some, Owen," Ianto said, smirking and raising an eyebrow. "And you've won a lot in your time… I 'spose it was time for a failure!"

"Cheers, mate. I thank you for your insight," the Stage Manager responded sarcastically.

"Any time, Owen, any time."

"It's been a pretty restrained year; the only crew who've pulled- that _I _know about- are Chris and Rob. So it's not like I'm alone."

"Welcome to the sensible world of adulthood, Owen," Ianto stated.

"_Tosh_ is a sensible … _You're_ just boring and _settled,_" Owen retorted good naturedly as Toshiko quietly huffed at being called 'sensible'.

Ianto smiled weakly and hoped it was convincing. Owen wasn't party to the details of his home life; Ianto felt far from 'settled' at the moment. Luckily, his act had the desired effect and Owen was happily carrying on with reminiscences of some of the funnier moments on stage during the show, stories which rarely failed to amuse Tosh and Ianto. HIdden away at the back of the Hall, or in the Lighting Box, they were unable to see most of the action, and Owen and his crew's highly embellished and exaggerated tales were frequently as close as they got to the action.

xxx

It was after 2am and the party was beginning to wind down. The younger dancers had gone, tearful as they left, and any of the out of towners who were driving back home, or setting off first thing in the morning, had left soon after. Some of the older twirlies and younger Techies had left an hour earlier to hit the Cardiff clubs. Only about fifteen of the partygoers were left and they had gravitated to the bar area and were all downing their final drinks as the bar staff pulled the shutters down.

Over to his side Ianto could see Jack saying his goodbyes to the remaining turns, Angharad and Melvyn. He continued chatting to Toshiko and Owen, but he couldn't help the strange and gnawing feeling that he was going to miss the actor's presence. As he finished his pint and placed it on the now narrow strip of the bar, he felt his stomach churn with embarrassment; Jack was advancing on him and his team mates. He and Jack may well have made their peace and sorted out their 'misunderstanding', as Ianto had started to call it in his head, but he wasn't sure that he was up to a public farewell.

"Well, guys, I'm leaving tomorrow and I gotta say that it's been a pleasure," Jack greeted the remaining three Crew members with a wide and toothy smile, the kind that ought to have had toothpaste manufacturers and advertisers fighting for his endorsements. "It's been one of the smoothest running shows I've worked on anywhere, Owen," he reached out and vigourously shook Owen's hand.

"Cheers- that means a lot to me. And, for turns," Owen smirked, "You lot have been pretty OK to work with."

"You're not that bad yourself- for a Techie," he replied with an amused twinkle in his eyes

He turned to Toshiko as he let go of the Technician who was still muttering his thanks at the praise. "As for you, the beautiful Miss Sato, I never knew I could sound that good. And it's down to you. I'd work with you again in a shot."

"Well, I can tell you that you can't make a bad voice sound good- I had something pretty impressive to work with in the first place," Toshiko replied, smiling as she blushed slightly at Jack's compliment.

"Thanks, Tosh. But I think you're doing yourself- and your skills- down. And you can fiddle with my radio mic pack any time," he winked.

Tosh's blush intensified as the actor grinned, and then looked to Ianto. "And Ianto Jones- a man wasted on Panto…. Just like the rest of you," he added.

The Welshman was filled with relief as both Owen and Toshiko started to ask about Jack's latest TV venture, and he didn't have to engage in an awkward response or dialogue. As Harkness regaled an excited Toshiko with details of when the new sci-fi show was likely to be aired, he watched the older man. His blue eyes sparkled as he talked enthusiastically about the opportunity that he'd been given- and which he was going to wholeheartedly take advantage of.

The farewells drew to an end and Jack glanced at his wristwatch. "I'd best get going- I'm catching the train in the afternoon, but I've still not packed everything yet. Martha's meeting me at Paddington, and she'll kill me if I get a later train!" He looked lost for words for a second before speaking again. "Seriously, guys, it's been great- I don't often say I'll miss a show, but I'd be back here in a shot, given the chance." He quickly enveloped Owen in a manly hug, and Ianto watched as a surprised and slightly uncomfortable looking Stage Manager returned the embrace. Toshiko followed, with Jack stooping slightly to wrap his arms around her. As he released her, Ianto braced himself; it would seem odd for him not to hug him, too, especially as Owen and Tosh were well aware that the two men had become friendly.

Jack placed an arm gently around his shoulder and Ianto felt his heartbeat increase in speed and his skin warm. He quickly brushed off the reaction as unease at the other man's touch. At least the others had no inkling of his indiscretion. Thank God- Owen would take the piss for the next year. The arm was quickly withdrawn.

"It's been nice working with you all. See you." Jack said cheerily and then he was striding out of the room, and out of the Cardiff Grand, and along with relief that he wouldn't be put into any more unsettling situations with the actor, Ianto felt an inexplicable sense of loss.

xxx

**To Be Continued…**

Corpse (verb)- an actor laughing on stage inappropriately, or forgetting their lines due to onstage gags or distractions.

Monitors- speakers set at the front of stage, facing on stage, that give the turns/actors the correct musical mix/ relay of the show.

House music- music played before or after a show, as the audience come in, or at the interval. Often not played at 'serious' theatrical performances.

One nighter- as in 'For One Night Only!'.


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** "Back Stage: Interval, Chapter I"

**Rating:** M, for later adult content.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers:** Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I'm just borrowing the charcters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don't prosecute!

**Synopsis:** Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.

**A/N: **We've reached the interval, so there will be several short chapters before Act II... As Usual I've been stumped by editing chapters/titles on ff, so this is still part of the same story, even if it's called "Interval".

**Chapter I**

If Ianto had felt that a holiday in the sun in Tunisia would heal the rift which he knew was growing, day by day, between himself and Lisa, he'd been mistaken. Lisa had spent most of her days taking the occasional dip in the pool or relaxing on a lounger in the shade of a large parasol, making her way through her extensive collection of easy holiday reading, which consisted of 'chick lit' novels and the odd magazine. Ianto had spent at least two days of their seven day stay alone, visiting the local town, or just exploring the surrounding beach and countryside in an effort to stem his boredom at the inactivity- he had never been one for sunbathing, preferring instead to see something of the country he was visiting. He had also been disappointed to find that Lisa did not share his romantic notions when it came to the evenings. The intimate meal that he had booked in the hotel's restaurant on their first proper night there had not been greeted with enthusiasm, and she had picked at her food while conversation had been workaday but pleasant and friendly; Any thoughts of making use of the king side bed in the luxury bungalow that they'd paid extra for were soon driven from his mind. It was becoming painfully clear that, at least for her, this holiday was about getting away from it all rather than rekindling their relationship. He was at a loss about what to do, but finally supposed that this was exactly what happened when a couple had settled down after a few years. It was a depressing thought, but one that Ianto had no option to accept, despite his worries that something- or some_one-_ else was at the root of the problem.

Two months later and the relatively short period of time had wrought considerable changes. Shortly after his arrival back from vacation, Archie had announced his plans for early retirement and his return to Scotland. Owen had declared no interest in applying for the post, stating that involved far too much paperwork and office work. Toshiko's view had been pretty similar; she was far more interested in the Sound gadgetry she had carte blanche to tinker with, however she encouraged an initially reluctant Ianto to apply, and when he had studied the Management's new job description- a more hands on Management style than Archie's, with plenty of opportunities to continue working on shows if he wished and help with the paperwork side of the job in the form of a part time secretary- he'd enthusiastically applied. Lisa hadn't shared that enthusiasm. While the increase in pay seemed appealing she thought that he should be casting his net a little wider in the job market- specifically in the direction of London. Whatever her thoughts, three weeks later- and a week before the interview for Technical Manager- Lisa was gone, and hadn't _that_ been fun...

Ianto had been scheduled to work late on a touring comedy show, re-rigging into the early hours of the morning, ready for the arrival of a week long run of a song and dance show. When he'd arrived at work he had found it was over manned. With Chris there and totally capable dealing with the simple static lighting, the Welshman had taken the chance of an early finish- after all he was salaried and Rob was paid by the hour. Lisa was off work, planning an early night, so he didn't call her when he left the Theatre, planning to surprise her with an early return home- and surprise her he did. On his arrival back in their flat he had been greeted by the sight of Lisa and a man, comfortably installed on _his_ sofa, stockinged feet comfortable resting on _his_ coffee table, a glass of Cava in his hand. Whilst there was nothing 'going on', the man- awkwardly introduced as Michael- was completely comfortable in their flat, and Ianto mentally questioned exactly how often he'd visited. Lisa had asked Michael to leave, and, after he did, the argument that Ianto had been expecting ensued. It became apparent that Lisa and 'Michael' had been seeing each other for some time. The next revelation was that 'Michael', who was the Arts Director where Lisa worked, was soon to depart from Cardiff to take up a post with the Aldwych Theatre in London. At least Lisa had had the grace to call one of her girlfriends, asking if she could stay for a few days and after a protracted argument, she grabbed an overnight bag full of essentials and headed out of the flat- and out of Ianto's life. At least there was one thing about the whole débâcle: at least the young man had an idea of just why Lisa had been so distant.

Over the next three days she cleared out her possessions from their home, mostly while Ianto was working. Months later, Ianto heard that 'Michael' had left Cardiff to take up his new job; at the same time, Lisa had left the Art's Theatre for London, much to his relief- he wasn't sure he could deal with her being in the same town, ready to bump into him at any moment.

How Ianto got through the interview for Technical Manager he would never know, but get through it he did- and successfully. Although the post had been advertised externally, Ianto's 'local knowledge' coupled with his Technical skills, and not just in Lighting- he had a good grounding in all of the theatre Technical disciplines, meant that he was by far the best candidate. He'd easily trounced the competition, and, at seven thirty that evening, whilst sat in the local pub with Tosh and Owen, he answered his mobile to a congratulatory Archie. He had never really considered that he could get the job, whatever his colleagues believed. His initial excitement about his appointment was swiftly replaced with regret even if he didn't voice it. He should have had someone special to share the news with. He'd always thought he would be sharing his news and celebrating with Lisa if this was the outcome- but those hopes had been dashed after he'd found Michael in the flat.

**To Be Continued...**


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** "Back Stage: Interval, Chapter I"

**Rating:** M, for later adult content.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers:** Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I'm just borrowing the charcters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don't prosecute!

**Synopsis:** Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.

**A/N: **Another short chapter, I'm afraid. But there will be another one very soon. Thank you to everyone reading and commenting about this. It really does make it all worthwhile!

**Chapter 2**

**xxx**

Oddly, Ianto found himself settling quite easily into single life. He'd thought long and hard about his break-up with Lisa. He should have seen the signs- perhaps he had, but had been unwilling to confront the issues at home. Looking back, deep down he had known that they were on a downhill slide. Of course, he still looked back on everything with regret, mixed with a strong dose of anger, but somehow he also had a strange feeling of relief as time rolled by. The new job clearly had something to do with that, giving him ample opportunities to be distracted from his personal worries and life, but, ultimately, he'd realised that perhaps Lisa hadn't been the woman for him. Who the right woman was, though, he had no idea.

**xxx**

If Ianto thought that Jack Harkness was out of his life, he was wrong. It was impossible to avoid the man. With a little more office work, he spent more time at home in the evenings and at weekends, giving him plenty of time to catch up with just exactly what was on the television these days.

It was a Thursday night as he tuned into BBC 3, as the announcer revealed that the next television programme was the première of 'Torchwood'. He knew immediately that this was Jack Harkness' new show. He briefly thought of switching over to something else- he liked Jack, but their parting at the end of Panto had been awkward to say the least, and he was in two minds about whether he really needed to be reminded of it. But, in spite of everything, Ianto had genuinely hoped they were friends, and he loved Doctor Who... whatever had happened. He quickly got up and grabbed another beer from the 'fridge and settled down to watch the show.

Jack was even more handsome than he remembered. Whether it was the lighting, the camera angle or the heroic nature of his role, complete with that RAF military coat and some seriously retro styling, Ianto wasn't sure. Whatever it was, by the first episode's finale scene, the Welshman was on his third bottle of lager and was completely transfixed. By the time that the title music faded out, the young man was totally hooked, and made a mental note to watch the next installment. He was also strangely fixated by Jack's performance. The fact that he had spent the majority of the time watching the actor, rather than taking in the plot, didn't even occur to him.

xxx

Saturday arrived and, with it, another night off. He had ignored Owen's invitation to 'get himself back out there, and go on the pull'. He'd also refused Tosh's invitation for an altogether more sedate evening with a bottle of wine and some DVDs round at her place- the Sound Engineer had been Ianto's rock in the weeks after Lisa's departure, but what the young man needed was a weekend of wallowing in his own misery with a few gin and tonics (light on the tonic, the mood he was in), not comforting words from Toshiko, or a wild night out with Owen, 'picking up birds'. With that thought, he mixed himself a strong glassful of the aforementioned drink and settled down for an evening of unchallenging prime time viewing.

He flicked between the channels, finally settling on BBC1 as he geekily spotted a rather spectacular piece of lighting as the background to a more lacklustre singer. Another TV talent show- not his cup of tea- but he couldn't resist checking out other Lighting Engineers' work, and it would definitely fill in time before the nine o' clock movie on FilmFour. The song finished a few minutes later and the shot changed to the judging panel. He spluttered into his drink as he caught sight of the panellists. Damn it! As if Thursday's episode of Torchwood had not been enough, there was Jack Harkness again. In contrast to his performance on the sci fi series, this Jack was dressed in a contemporary style, much like Ianto remembered him, but with a little bit extra glitz and glam- it was only to be expected; this was showbiz, and everything was more exaggerated, more... 'sparkly'. Still, it suited the man well. Ianto doubted that there was little that the 'man' _wouldn't_ look good in. Jack started his dissection of the previous contestant's performance, and his comments were witty, but kindly and encouraging- much like the Jack he knew, but with his work 'hat' on he was louder, shining in the limelight. It seemed that there was no end to the actor's TV appearances these days.

Still, Ianto found himself watching the show, and even tuning into the results from the audience voting later that night, the film première he had been looking forward to forgotten. By now, he'd had several G & Ts, and he was well and truly on his way to being drunk and rather maudlin. Perhaps Gin had not been the right choice of drink.

As he watched Jack give a guest performance of 'Somewhere' from 'West Side Story', he was transported back to Christmas- it had been one of the songs from Aladdin, too. Everything had seemed so easy then. Ianto had a beautiful girlfriend, and plans for their future together.

He started to wonder what would have happened had he found out about Lisa's duplicity earlier... and that was when it hit him like a sledge hammer, the shock winding him as much as any physical blow. He had been- _was still_- attracted to the man in front of him on the television screen. If Lisa hadn't been in the background, he wasn't sure what his reaction to that kiss at Angharad's party would have been. His mind conjoured up quite a few scenarios, some of them very similar to the actual event, but one stuck in his mind- him leaning into the kiss, allowing Jack to pull him close as he revelled in the older man's eager and searching touch, returning it with an equal amount of passion. Random thoughts flooded Ianto's mind, some of them distinctly X rated; where would that evening have ended without Lisa being part of the equation? Would the two men have continued, perhaps going further? Or would Ianto have dissembled as he had at the time- and if he had, would the outcome of his talk with Jack at the last night party have been any different?

That he was thinking such thoughts bewildered him, but Ianto realised that they were having a powerful effect on him- and his body. Effects that he didn't want to acknowledge. He took another slug of his drink and swallowed it down with a glug. It really didn't matter what _he _felt anyway. Jack had made it abundantly clear- what had had he said? That he wasn't gay. Whatever fantasies Ianto was now working his way through were just that- fantasies. Why he would imagine that a star of the stage and small screen would have any interest in him was beyond his comprehension, although it didn't stop him reaching into the loose fitting cotton pants he was wearing, his hand soon working out the underlying tension he'd known he would find.

xxx

**To Be Continued...**


	14. Chapter 14

**Title:** "Back Stage: Interval, Chapter 3"

**Rating:** M, for later adult content.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers:** Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I'm just borrowing the charcters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don't prosecute!

**Synopsis:** Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.

**A/N: **Another short one! Thanks as ever to everyone who's reading and commenting.

**Chapter 3**

**xxx**

Jack sighed at the laptop in front of him. To his complete horror, there were several weeks in February 2012 blocked out in his calendar, the only thing next to them being the letters 'TBC'. Just after his appearance in Pantomime in Birmingham. He'd been looking forward to a nice, long holiday after this year's show, Snow White, but, by the look of it, he'd be lucky to get away with a week in Tenerife at this rate. Perhaps he shouldn't worry- he'd been waiting years for this opportunity to make it into mainstream TV and the 'big time'. He looked through his mobile's contacts section and pressed 'dial' for the only other person with full access to his diary.

"_Hello, Martha Jones' Management."_ Although Jack had called her personal mobile, the Manager was always on the job.

"Martha! Voice of a nightingale! It's Jack, How are you doing?"

"_You know, schmoozing here, schmoozing there. How about you?"_

"Fine, busy- as you know- but fine. I was just looking in my dairy and I found..."

"_...That TBC entry. Look, I'm sorry but your 'phone was engaged last night. Have you checked your 'phone messages?"_

"Well, no..."Jack knew he was lazy when it came to checking his messages. He quickly made a mental note to ask Martha about recruitingng a proper PA. He'd been avoiding such intrusion into his life for years, but since 'Torchwood' and 'Who wants to be a Star?', he was in demand. An extra pair of hands would come in handy, not to mention the fact that he was terrible at organising his own diary.

"_Jack,_" she admonished. _"Well, if you had..."_ Martha continued to explain patiently, _"You would have found a message about setting up a meeting to discuss those very dates."_

"Oh..." Jack trailed off, chastised. He coughed, knowing he'd been caught out, but not wanting to admit it. "OK, what's it all about?"

"_Steve Morgan's been writing a musical... "_ She paused as Jack took that in; Morgan was the main writer of 'Torchwood'. _"And he wants you to be the star. It's gonna be 'Torchwood' but with even more kitsch and music. We're thinking about a première and about four week in the sticks, and hoping for a few weeks later in the year in London. Hartman's behind it all- as soon as she heard Steve was toying with doing a musical, she signed him up. She loved your turn in Aladdin, and since you're all over TV at the moment you're a highly bankable commodity... And 'Torchwood' has been a big hit for home grown sci fi... "_

The actor was silent for a second, he was lost for words and his interest piqued- not to mention that he was flattered by Steve's faith in him. And the show would be an opportunity to showcase his singing to a different audience, one of younger viewers who might not have ever thought that musical theatre was for them. He finally let out a low whistle and grinned to himself. "_Wow_! I've gotta say yes, haven't I? It's not often a guy gets a musical written for him!"

He heard Martha's musical laugh drifting down the 'phone. _"You're right there- you can't miss this opportunity. Some of the songs are going to be original, with a few, popular hits, but best of all... Steve wants you to look over the script and song list, have some input... It's not often you get a chance like that."_

The proposition was sounding better and better to Jack. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he'd be in a position to pick and choose like this, and he'd never even thought that he would ever be in this position, with a real prospect of being able to influence a show he was in, well beyond just his own performance. "In which case, the answer's 'yes'..."

"_I'm so glad!" _Martha all but squealed. _"It's gonna be a lot of intensive work- it's not going to be 'turn up on the day and just go with the script'... You've got to be prepared for that."_

"I know," he said seriously. "But it's a chance to really make a mark." He paused. "So, now I've said 'yes', exactly _where _are you thinking about for a 'place in the sticks' for the opening?"

"_Well...Birmingham and Manchester were suggested, but since the show's set there, Yvonne and Steve are thinking the logical choice is Cardiff- maybe the Grand again. It's got that retro look that he's looking for and the stage can easily accommodate the set changes and show, full stop."_

Jack felt his stomach turn and twist, but only for a moment. Martha was right- Cardiff was the logical choice- and even though this meant that he may well be returning to the Grand, he was sure he'd squared things with Ianto before he'd left. Hell, from what he'd seen of the other man's work, they'd also have the benefit of one of the best Lighting Operators outside of the West End, assuming that the Welshman was still there next year and hadn't left for pastures new with Lisa.He was certain that Ianto was professional enough not to hold his past indiscretion against him. He just had to make sure that he could be that professional, too.

xxx

**To Be Continued...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Title:** "Back Stage: Interval, Chapter 4"

**Rating:** M, for later adult content.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers:** Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I'm just borrowing the charcters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don't prosecute!

**Synopsis:** Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.

**A/N: **Thanks once more to everyone reading and commenting- I really can't say how much it means to me. Sorry for the delay in posting again!

**Chapter 4**

**xxx**

Being the new Technical Manager of the Grand, Ianto had gone through an abrupt learning curve in the last two months. He'd avoided paperwork thus far in his career, but now it made up half of his working hours. Luckily the Grand's management had employed a secretary cum admin assistant- one of the reasons that he had even considered applying for the post in the first place.

Donna Noble had been his saviour. An outspoken, but highly efficient, redhead somewhere in her thirties, she worked part time with Ianto, part time with the Entertainment and Sales Managers, Rory and Suzie. She'd eased his path into Management no end, and he would be eternally in her debt.

xxx

Ianto tapped at his mouse, flicking between the pages of the Grand's events calendar. He'd already staffed the next couple of months, but it never hurt to see what was coming up.

And that was when he saw it: a whole six weeks booked out to 'TBC'. Six weeks was a long time, and to see it booked out to nothing but 'to be confirmed' was unusual to say the least.

"Donna, what's this?" he asked.

"It would kinda help if you defined exactly what 'this' _is_," Donna said sarcastically in her London accent as she looked up at him from her desk in the corner of the small room cluttered with events files and Archie's remaining paperwork, some of it dating back to the 1980s, by the look of it. She was only just beginning to tackle _that._

"It's six weeks blocked out in late January, a few weeks after Panto, but there's no indication of what the show is," he replied deliberately and precisely.

"That's better. And yes I _do_ know what that is," she answered smugly.

Ianto humoured her. "So what is it then?"

"It's this new show- a première. If it comes off, it's going to be big. That's what they're saying downstairs in Sales and the main office."

"What else are they saying down there?" Ianto said encouragingly. If there was one thing that he'd learned about Donna, she loved a bit of gossip.

"Well..." she started conspiratorially, before looking over at the small coffee percolator that Ianto had bought recently. "Wait a minute. Do I get one of your coffees out of this?"

"Yeah," Ianto gave a defeated but good natured sigh, and got up from his seat and filled the machine with some cold water from a covered jug, and a filter full of his favourite ground coffee. He flicked the 'on' switch and perched his behind next to it on the low cupboard, as it spluttered and gurgled into action.

"Right then, what's the story?" he cocked his head at her, encouraging her to say more.

"Well..." she repeated slowly, enjoying the slight look of impatience on her boss' face.

"Yeah?"

"Apparently, they haven't dotted the 'i's or crossed the 't's on the contract yet, but it's going to be a musical, a sci fi one. They're hoping it's gonna be as big as 'Forbidden Planet'. It's got that guy in it... the one that's all over the telly these days..."

Ianto regarded her and nodded his head, egging her on.

"You know, whatsisname... he's all over the telly these days," Donna was visibly trawling through her mind for the name of the actor. Finally she'd obviously remembered who the guy was. "He plays that Captain Jack Barton in Doctor Who, Suzie said he'd been in Panto here. You must know him."

Ianto was glad he was leaning against the cupboard, as he felt his legs weaken a bit. Yes, he knew him. He'd worked with him. He'd _kissed_ him. He'd spent the last few weeks watching him in 'Torchwood'. And, rather disturbingly, the man had also invaded his dreams in recent weeks, in various circumstances- and states of undress.

He felt his face heat up a little, when he heard the percolator give a final sputter. He quickly pushed himself up from his resting place, and turned to pour out Donna's coffee, thankful for the excuse and hopeful that she hadn't seen his cheeks redden. Not that Donna knew anything about his personal life aside from his recent break up with Lisa, or his secret imaginings. Not that she could have known that Ianto was fast developing an obsession with both Jack Harkness _and _his rather unimaginatively named character from the Doctor Who spin-off.

"Jack Harkness," he stated dispassionately as he stirred the drinks and composed himself. "He was here this Christmas, playing Aladdin. He can sing live, that's for sure."

"You're not joking there- I saw him on that talent show the other week. I think Suzie and Rory are right, it could be a hit. _And_ he's drop dead gorgeous. If that doesn't get the punters in, nothing will," she said eagerly as she took her drink.

As he drank down his own coffee, Ianto wondered if he could avoid Jack, perhaps apply for another job before the show. Internally, he shook his head. Nope, being Technical Manager of the Grand had turned out to be his dream job, and he had to stick with it, whatever complications came with it. Anyway, he was positive that Jack wouldn't dwell on the kissing episode, or even bring the subject up after their talk at the end of the run. All he had to do now was put his own longings and regrets aside.

xxx

When, the month after their conversation, he saw the 'TBC' appellation change to 'Torchwood: The Musical' in the Grand's events' calendar, it was no surprise, but he still felt a strange rush of heated blood through his body.

xxx

**To Be Continued...**


	16. Chapter 16

**Title:** "Back Stage: Interval, Chapter 5"

**Rating:** M, for later adult content.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers:** Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I'm just borrowing the charcters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don't prosecute!

**Synopsis:** Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.

**A/N: **Now I know that this is another chapter, but we're getting into the second Act soon, so the chapters will be longer then. Also, apologies yet again for the late posting- real life, including a relative's (non serious!) hospitalisation, delayed me. And I promise another longer chapter within 48hrs as an apology.

**Chapter 5**

During the weeks that followed the discovery that 'Torchwood'- and with it, Jack- was coming to the theatre, Ianto had reflected on the position that he found himself in.

However much he'd tried to brush off the obsession with Jack Harkness, it was (even to a confused Ianto) clear from the way that Jack occupied his thoughts on a frequent and inconvenient basis- whenever he had a spare moment, or, even worse, when he was asleep, causing him to wake, heated and unsatisfied- that he was attracted to the entertainer. Worse still, and infuriatingly, when Ianto managed to try to wind down and relax with the television, the Fates ensured that he couldn't forget Jack; the man turned up on virtually every chat or quiz show he tuned in to. On top of all of this, the Technician had not avoided watching 'Torchwood', at first telling himself that his interest was purely part of the love he had for the good, old, British science fiction television tradition, rather than some fanciful and secret attraction he had with the show's lead.

As time went by, and often with the help of a few relaxing and mind concentrating alcoholic beverages, he had begun to see his fixation with Jack as a personal fantasy, a secret crush. Bewilderment and inner turmoil had given way to the knowledge and acceptance that he really didn't give a shit about Jack's gender. And, more often than not, he could no longer blame the fixation on alcohol or drugs- he could be stone cold sober and a glimpse of bloody Jack Harkness on the telly could make his heart miss a beat. He began to question if he'd felt more for Paul Campbell than he had realised all those years ago- if he'd really thought about it at the time, had his housemate been more than a quick drunken and experimental fumble? If Lisa had never come on the scene, would things have been different between the two young men? Had he always, somewhere in his subconscious, been attracted to at least some men- and if he had, had Lisa somehow seen it, or sensed it, and sought out solace elsewhere? He even started to examine his career choices. Should the fact that he had decided to work in 'the theatre' have been a clue to his newly realised sexuality? Or bisexuality? He was in no doubt that he'd found Lisa attractive- as he had his few other girlfriends- and he _had_ loved her. But this thing he had for Jack was just the same, but _different_, in a strange kind of way. There was the same fluttering in his stomach as when he had first started dating Lisa, the same incessant need to just _see_ Jack... but this was getting out of hand and it was addictive.

Even as Ianto relaxed at home, pondering these thoughts and resolving to avoid thinking about the man at all, his pulse quickened and he felt as if a heated surge of blood circulate 'round his body, coming to rest low in his belly. He leant his head back against the sofa, shutting his eyes and sighing to himself in defeat; aroused, he resigned himself to the knowledge that he was well and truly _gone_.

**To Be Continued...**


	17. Chapter 17

**Title:** "Back Stage: Act II, Chapter 1"

**Rating:** M, for later adult content.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers:** Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I'm just borrowing the characters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don't prosecute!

**Synopsis:** Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.

**A/N: **We've reached Act II and hopefully this is the last of the wordy chapters, but start of the reunion that readers have been waiting for!

**Chapter List: . **

**Chapter 1**

Sitting at the small dining table, Jack looked out of the window of his temporary home and across the blue-grey of Cardiff Bay and sipped at a cup of distinctly average cup of instant coffee. Setting out in the early hours, he had driven up from London the day before in his 'good as new' Audi TT, a recent (and rather extravagant, Jack thought) purchase that he'd been cajoled into buying by Martha, who was of the opinion that a car would be handy for the occasional overnight gig and would also save a fortune in taxis and trains. She was only right about the car's handiness; so far it had seemed to have cost him at least twice as much in parking permits and fees, insurance and road tax. Still, he had to agree it made life easier- he had been able to pack more than twice as much luggage and possessions into the car as he would usually take on a long job like the Torchwood musical, and he'd been able to nip out as soon as he'd unloaded the boot, to buy in some essentials- like the God awful coffee he was currently drinking.

As he tucked into a slice of toast and hummous (it had seemed like a good idea at the time) and thought about his schedule for the day: finish breakfast, read through a few e-mails on his laptop, have another quick practice of a few of the songs and then make his way to the Cardiff Grand for his one o'clock production meeting for 'Torchwood: The Musical'.

The last year had flown by. In between a dizzying number of guest appearances on the TV, he'd been gigging around the country to packed houses with Ruthie Henderson with the Hartman production "The Greatest Hits of the West End". Whenever he had a free moment, he was to be found meeting with Steve Morgan and Matthias Goldman, the composer and Musical director for the show, thrashing out the script and whittling away at the large list of songs, both original and popular hits. Some time in the late Summer, Adam Smith was appointed the Stage Manager for the show, so smoothly had the previous year's Pantomime run, and he started to join the trio for their gatherings whenever his work allowed.

Throughout the process of refining Steve's script and Matthias' music, Jack steadfastly fought the urge to check on whether Ianto would still be at the Grand by the time he arrived for the rehearsals and première of the musical. By the Autumn, when Steve and Matt returned from a production meeting in Cardiff, Jack could not help but ask how everything had gone. He had been surprised to hear that the Tech Manager would be designing the lighting- he remembered meeting Archie, and really didn't think that the older man would have the required enthusiasm and Technical expertise for the task and was quick to express his concern. He was even more surprised- as well as relieved- to find out that the Technical Manager was one Ianto Jones. At least the lighting was going to be in good hands. And he looked forward to seeing the other man, and not just because he fancied him; Jack had long since realised that he didn't stand a chance with Ianto and he hoped they could renew their friendship in spite of his behaviour at _that_ party. Over the last year he'd escorted more than his fair share of fellow celebrities to first night openings and 'A list' parties, and he had more offers of everything from dinner out to no strings attached sex than he could remember, but, still, he couldn't get Ianto out of his head, and as each potential suitress or suitor fell by the wayside, he told himself that he was simply focussing on his increasingly successful career.

Waiting behind the young, and rather flustered, work experience girl who had insisted on showing him up to the meeting room from the Stage Door, even when he'd told her he was fairly sure that he remembered the way- he really hadn't wanted her to be any more agitated than she already was- Jack composed himself for the inevitable meeting with Ianto. She knocked at the door before hurriedly announcing the new arrival and scuttling away, a blush on her cheeks.

Jack looked into the room and realised that he was the last arrival; all seats around the table, neatly set out with a steaming pot of coffee and a jug of water, complete with cups, a few glasses and milk and sugar, were full save for one in between Steve and Adam Smith. As he made for the empty seat and Adam and the rest of the attendees greeted him with 'hellos'.

"Hi guys...Sorry, I seem to be a bit late," he said looking at his watch uncertainly. It was quite definitely five to one. He flashed the assembled faces one of his best celebrity grins. Although Ianto appeared slightly nervous, he was pleased to see that the young man didn't avert his eyes as they met Jack's briefly.

"Don't worry, Jack, it's just that we're all early," Adam smiled. "Go on, take a seat and grab a drink, before we start."

As Jack poured himself a glass of water, Adam continued. "I think most of us know each other, but let's have some introductions anyway. I'm Adam Smith and I'm going to be the Stage Manager on this show." They continued around the table clockwise and as soon as he'd introduced himself, Jack took an opportunity to properly take in his Cardiff colleagues: Toshiko, still pretty but reserved as ever, Owen and his barbed but laid back persona- until he had to order the performers around. Lastly he focussed on Ianto. The last year had changed him, and for the better. In only twelve months or so gone was the skinny Technician; he'd filled out a little and seemed to exude more confidence, although Jack saw that confidence waver a little as Ianto looked up and briefly met his eyes with a hesitant smile. Ianto looked away, and Jack couldn't help but stare at the man as discreetly as possible. A suit jacket was slung over the back of his chair, and Ianto/ the Welshman wore a matching waistcoat and a dark blue shirt, which only emphasised the man's pale Cambrian skin and the lighter blue of his eyes, sleeves rolled up showing off the muscles and sinews of his forearms, and revealing a light covering of dark hairs. Jack's gaze settled on the elegant fingers- strong but slender- which played with the edges of the note papers in front of him. No wedding ring- well, that seemed to imply that he hadn't yet tied the knot with Lisa. Not that that meant anything if Ianto wasn't the type to wear such a symbol of matrimony. And he _was_ at work. A ring could be a hazard in this business, catching on the rigging or lantern clamps and other equipment... Not that Jack needed to worry about Ianto's marital status; after the last time they had met, it was plain that the young man had no interest in him _that_ way.

Nevertheless, Ianto was delectable, and possibly even more so since their last meeting.

"...Ianto Jones, Lighting Engineer for the production and Cardiff Grand's Technical Manager..."

Just when Jack didn't think that Ianto could be any more appealing, the other man's accent, full of those beautiful vowels, raised his attraction to an even higher level, sending an involuntary shiver through his body. Although Ianto had been in Jack's thoughts on many an occasion throughout the long months since they had last seen each other, he had forgotten just how much the other man's accent could affect him This production was going to be more difficult than he had thought.

Adam was launching into the meeting's agendum, and Jack hurriedly grabbed his show notes from the small bag that he'd brought. He knew it was time to concentrate on the job at hand, rather than thinking over his past mistakes or 'what could have beens'.

He tried to give his full attention to the meeting, every now and again letting his gaze wander towards the young Welshman across the table.

The meeting had gone surprisingly well. The Hartman team were unexpectedly well prepared, and they had loved Ianto's final Lighting designs, Owen's staging solutions and Tosh's ideas for the Sound. Seeing Jack again had been a bit of a worry, but the actor had behaved as professionally as Ianto had known he would. And he hadn't even seemed to have noticed that the young Manager had been unable to stop his eyes straying towards the other man when he knew that he wasn't looking. Since they'd last seen each other, Jack had become an almost unreal and fantastical figure in Ianto's imagination; in the flesh, he was clearly real, and better looking than he had recollected, or looked on television. And seeing him in person his stomach churned and his heart sped up just like- he cursed himself and prayed it wasn't noticeable- a lovesick teenager with a crush on their favourite Hollywood star.

At five o'clock, after a lengthy and exhausting afternoon, Adam checked his watch and declared that they must all be thirsty. "How about a pint to wind down? Just the one, remember the rest of the cast are arriving tonight and rehearsals start tomorrow."

Owen was the first to agree, swiftly followed by the Ianto and the rest. Ianto had to work with Jack, and he figured he might as well start with a pint- that should at least ease them into their reacquaintance, and with other people around it wouldn't be too uncomfortable.

They actually had two pints before they left the pub and the visit hadn't been at all stressful; the conversation had been all about the production ahead and Jack hadn't said anything remotely untoward or embarrassing. In fact, on the two occasions that Ianto had been outside for a cigarette (he was cutting down- he was- but certain situations, like meeting the celebrity he'd snogged last year, just called for a smoke), he'd felt peculiarly bereft and disappointed when Jack hadn't joined him for some 'fresh air'. That was, after all, how their friendship had begun, and how, with that kiss, it had ended. The poor man was probably too embarrassed to come out for a chat, if he'd noticed Ianto leave the pub at all.

**To Be Continued...**


	18. Chapter 18

**Title:** "Back Stage: Act II, Chapter 2"

**Rating:** M, for later adult content.

**Spoilers/Disclaimers:** Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I'm just borrowing the characters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don't prosecute!

**Synopsis:** Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.

**A/N: **Yet again, real life is taking over, so this is late- I can't begin to thank those that are still reading and reviewing. I'm trying to reply to every comment, but please forgive me if I miss anyone out. Anyway- here's the next chapter if anyone's still reading!

**Chapter 2**

**xxx**

Ianto stood on the pavement outside the Grand and fiddled with the buckle on the strap of his satchel cum laptop bag. He'd stayed on to reply to some e-mails and go through some paperwork and check the show files (and, boy, did he hate that part of the job) when the rest of the crew had left after a hard day's rigging. He'd undoubtedly missed the swift half his colleagues had gone for close to two hours ago, which was a pity since he could have done with a drink after spending the last hour going through an Inbox so full he couldn't even send the shortest of messages. Thank God that he had Donna helping out in the office while he was rigging and programming the show; without her at least deleting all the industry exhibition invitations and sales shots, the theatre's server would surely have melted down before now.

"Hey, Ianto!"

He started at the voice behind him, and then recognised the Transatlantic twang. Jack. He gathered his thoughts and then turned; it was no use avoiding the man, as he'd managed to do so far. Sooner or later during the production they would have to interact more closely, however self conscious he felt in the other man's presence.

"Jack, how're rehearsals going?" The Hartman team had been having last minute rehearsals in the Anthony Hopkins suite most of the week, and even when they'd had a couple of on stage run throughs for a few scenes they'd been well out of the way of Ianto up in the Control Room, operating the lighting desk.

"Good, good," Jack nodded and smiled. "But I guess we're lucky with this one- I've been working on the Show ever since I signed up, and quite a few of the other guys know the show pretty well."

"It shows. It's looking good already..."

"We're all hoping it's a winner." Jack paused. "Look, are you on your way home?"

"Yes."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I need a drink after the last couple of days..."

Ianto didn't respond immediately, thinking through the correct reply to Jack's unspoken question.

"Just a drink or two, nothing heavy. I need to get that dust out of my throat."

"OK then. The Griffin?" he said, and inclined his head down the street in the direction of the pub. "But only a couple. I've got to get back. I'm knackered."

"Me too," Jack agreed, thinking of tomorrow's full Dress Rehearsal. They were a only day away from the first Preview night, and everybody was sorely in need of a rest. He felt a pang of guilt for keeping the young man from home and a relaxing evening in with his girlfriend, but the selfish part of him needed to reassure the other man that he didn't harbour any grudges or ill feelings after their last show together.

xxx

The men settled into their booth at the Griffin. During the short walk to the pub, the two had indulged in idle chitchat- how the read throughs and rehearsals were going for both the actors and technicians, or whether the show was selling well.

Now seated in the small and quiet, side street public house, Ianto sipped at his bitter and wiped away the froth from his lips with the back of his hand. "Well, it looks like you've had a busy year, Jack. I've hardly been able to switch the telly on without you turning up on something."

The actor laughed. "Well, tell me about it... Do an episode of Doctor Who, and they're all clamouring for you. It's what I've wanted my whole career, but when it actually happens... well, I've gotta say it's a bit overwhelming. There's a big difference there between the stage and TV. For a start, you don't get this kinda coverage in the press in the theatre... thank God," he finished and smiled wryly as he took a draught of his pint.

"That's true. Every time I open up a tabloid you're there, too."

Jack groaned. "That's the worst bit! You think you're gonna have a good night out, and before you know it, there's a pile of paparazzi there."

"Oh yeah?" Ianto grinned. "Mind you, you seem to have had some pretty good nights out- and some glamorous escorts, if you're going to believe the press."

"_Never_ believe the press, Ianto," he replied with a toothy laugh and a cock of his head. "It's all work."

"Even the photos?" It was his turn now to cock his head questioningly. "You and Alex Kingston were looking pretty close a couple of weeks ago in the News of the Planet."

"All work, _you_ know the score- promoting the show. Anyway, Mr Jones, I never took you to be the type to buy something as tacky as the News of the Planet," Jack admonished.

The part of Ianto that was still struggling with the fact that he found the dark haired man sitting across from the table from him ridiculously attractive, was oddly comforted by Jack's belief that he wouldn't stoop so low as to read one of the trashier red tops. "Believe me, I wouldn't pay good money for that rag. I found it in the Staff Room when I was having a break." He said then feigned hurt, and tried his best not to laugh. "And- _Mr Harkness_- I'm rather offended that you think so little of my intellect that I would ..."

For a second Jack was about to apologise before he noticed the corners of the Welshman's lips twitching as he forced himself to suppress his amusement. Jack grinned and then broke into laughter. "Well, I guess that's as good as an excuse as any!"

Quickly forgetting about the previous year's indiscretion, they settled into effortless small talk and chatted about the busy, non-stop year that had seen Jack go from well known musical and stage actor (at least in the world of West End Theatre goers) to full blown TV celebrity. Ianto found himself learning all about the off screen antics and gossip on Doctor Who, and which Jack felt were the most 'fun' panel shows or chat shows to appear on. Before he had time to check the time, they were starting their second drink.

"So..." Jack started. "It looks like you've had an eventful year, too. Last time I was here you were the Lighting Engineer, and now you're in charge of the whole Technical Team. Wasn't it that old Scottish guy who was managing last time I was here?"

"Archie," Ianto supplied.

"That's him. So what happened?"

"He retired. I wasn't even going to apply for the job, but Tosh convinced me. I was surprised when I got the interview. I was even more surprised when I got the job. I'm not really management material."

"_I'm_ not surprised you got the job," Jack said truthfully. "The Grand's got someone now who knows the job better than most. Things seem to be running smoothly, and the lighting looks amazing. You don't get that without being able to plan and schedule. You're obviously a better manager than you give yourself credit for."

"I don't know about that- that's more good lock than good management!"

"Whatever..." Jack dismissed Ianto's insecuritres. "Anyway, I'm betting the money's better? It's got to be good for you and Lisa."

Ianto flinched and was quiet for a moment. "Me and Lise broke up... Perhaps if she'd stuck around long enough for me to get the promotion, it _might_ have been good for us both."

"God, I'm sorry." Jack apologised. And he _was_ sorry, even if he could not help the small flicker of hope the news gave him. Ianto had seemed to idolise his girlfriend, but Jack was resigned to the fact that he stood no chance with the Welshman, and he could tell that Ianto was still smarting over the break up.

"Don't be. I got over it..."

"So when did all of this happen?"

Ianto sighed. "Not long after that Panto. Turned out she'd been seeing the Ents Manager at the Arts Theatre all the time," the Welshman explained without elaborating too much on the circumstances of how he had discovered Lisa's affair. "She ended up moving down to London with him. Which is where she'd always wanted to go back to, I guess."

"Jesus!"

"It's OK- at least getting this job took my mind off it all. I've had time to think since then, and, looking back, me and Lise always wanted different things anyway. I should have seen that. Hey... it's a new start, really. Time to take stock and concentrate on my career," Ianto finished with a weak smile and tried his hardest to sound optimistic.

Jack wasn't quite sure what to say; it was clear that the other man's split with his girlfriend continued to niggle. "It seems you're getting on with life. This is one of the best organised shows I've worked on," he reiterated his earlier praise, and attempted to quash the feelings of relief that the young man was, perhaps, a free agent- not that it would make any difference. "Been seeing anyone else...?" he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"God, no! I've got my plate full with work. And I'm not going to rush into anything else. It's time to do things for _me _for a while." It was no use saying anything else in front of the actor- Jack's words all that time ago rang in his ears: _"I'm not gay..." _Ianto wasn't even sure that _he_ was gay; he'd visited more than his usual number of clubs and bars over the last year, and he had had to acknowledge that there were a great number of good looking men at some of the more open and mixed venues, but none of them had managed to ignite his attention like the actor had.

Jack nodded and grinned at him. "Same here- this year's been all about Torchwood for me. Sometimes you just have to go for the opportunities that life throws at you, even when the going gets tough. You've got plenty of time to meet someone new at your age. Someone who _doesn't_ go off with the Entertainments Manager."

"I know you're right. It's just that sometimes it doesn't feel like that. I thought I'd got everything planned- I knew where I was going, who I was going there with. But I never thought I'd be a Tech Manager- or if I did, not yet. I was devastated when everything kicked off with Lisa, but I guess it wasn't meant to be, now I really think about it. And I may not even have applied for the job, whatever Tosh said, if I'd still been with Lisa. She wasn't very enthusiastic about me applying for jobs in Cardiff. It was like it really meant we were staying here."

"Well, you've just gotta look at it all as a new start." Jack stopped himself from making a comment that there were plenty more fish in the sea, and instead decided that both of them needed another drink- the conversation had got way too heavy in some respects. "Anyway... one more for the road? Let's forget about all that shit."

Ianto laughed. "OK- but I've really got to call it a night after that. It's Dress tomorrow."

xxx

The subject was swiftly changed as Jack sat down again and placed a glass of beer for Ianto on the table. "So, what do you think of the show?"

xxx

Another forty-five minutes passed, and the pair had settled into an effortless conversation, as they talked about anything but either Ianto's break-up with Lisa, or .

"Time to go?" Jack asked as he drained his glass and fished in his jeans back pocket for his 'phone. "Let's grab a couple of cabs. Which way are you headed?"

xxx

When it became apparent that Jack's digs were just less than half way in the same direction as Ianto's place- a fact that Ianto had failed to realise thus far- they opted for a single taxi. As Jack handed over his portion of the fare and jumped out of the car, Ianto sighed and raised his hand in farewell and sank into the cab's back seat. Jack returned the gesture with a wide smile before he turned and walked to the entrance of his block of flats.

Reconnecting with Jack had been 'fun', he supposed, now reassured that he could at least work with him, the embarrassing incident of last year, if not forgotten, forgiven. But the evening had also brought thoughts of 'what might have been'- if only Jack had felt the same way that he did.

Despite that last thought, it was good to have a friend back in Cardiff, and after all, it was only for a limited time; if the two men couldn't put aside their differences for a few weeks it would be a pretty poor show.

**xxx**

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
